


Black Cats

by HowardR



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: (well no just the one), Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Magic, Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts Fourth Year, Jeffershit being his usual Jeffershit self, Platonic Relationships, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Ravenclaw Pride, Teen Romance, Time Travel, Time Travelling Lesbians, Useless Lesbians, also a bit of first year here and there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:47:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 38,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27501025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowardR/pseuds/HowardR
Summary: Max Caulfield is a young witch attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She is fourteen when Mark Jefferson is appointed as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.She quickly decides that he’s the most competent teacher they’ve had yet - and that she doesn’t need to be suspicious of him like she was of the last one, who turned out to be a werewolf.In her defence, she had a lot of other stuff on her mind. Between being in love with her best friend, balancing ten upcoming O.W.Ls and having to deal with her malfunctioning time turner, she didn’t really have time to be suspicious of Mr. Jefferson.What a mistake that was.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield & Brooke Scott, Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, Victoria Chase/Kate Marsh
Comments: 56
Kudos: 61





	1. Prologue: The Sorting

The first time she entered the Great Hall, her first thought was:  _ Wowsers. _

Her second thought was that it looked like the inside of a church.

The hall was massive. The walls were perfectly polished stone, completely unblemished and lit orange by the glow of a hundred floating candles. Candles that came in a million colours - red, black, white, yellow, brown. They glittered like stars above her head - and it was an even more fitting image because of the dead black night sky. Completely cloudless, with a thin crescent moon just to the left of the queue of students.

Did the roof just open up to the sky? That didn’t make sense, there was a whole castle-

“It’s enchanted.”

She glanced to the side.

A girl was standing next to her. Her foot was tapping rapidly against the stone, and her spectacle-covered eyes were sharp and focused.

“What?”

The girl glanced at her - and flicked aside her midnight-black hair.

“The ceiling. You were wondering if it just opened up, right? It’s just enchanted to look like that. Rowena Ravenclaw herself did it.”

Max blinked.

“How do you know that?”

“It was in Hogwarts: A History. A dreadfully dull book overall, but that was one of the interesting tidbits.” The girl, suddenly, offered her hand. “Brooke Scott.”

Max stared at the hand for a moment, before she took her - Brooke’s - hand as gingerly as she could. It was so thin and spindly, it seemed like a stiff breeze would take it right off.

“Max Caulfield. It’s nice to meet you,” she said - mostly on mechanical reflex. Her parents had taught her  _ some  _ basic manners when she was really young, and had done their best to make sure the lessons stuck.

“Mm. I do believe that girl is waving at you, Max Caulfield.”

Max glanced over Brooke’s shoulder, and grinned.

Chloe was giving her an incredibly energetic wave with her trademark wide, cocky grin.

  
She waved back just as enthusiastically.

“You know her?”

Max glanced back at Brooke - who was giving her a look that seemed genuinely interested for the first time.

“Oh yeah - she’s my best friend! We grew up in the same town.”

Brooke blinked. “...I wasn’t aware the odds of such a thing were so good. Are you both muggleborn?”

“Uh - no, Chloe’s dad was a wizard. I’m a muggleborn, though.”

Brooke stared right through her. After a long, long moment, Max fidgeted. “...What?”

“What house are you expecting to get into?” Brooke asked, instead of answering.

Max blinked. “Uh - Gryffindor.”

Brooke nodded.

“Students!”

Max startled and whipped around towards the source of the shout; the Assistant Headmistress. Ms. Hoida, she’d said her name was, professor of transfiguration.

“Black looks good on you.”

She barely had time to register Brooke’s voice before Hoida was moving swiftly along. “When I call your name,” Hoida said, “you will come to the front, I will put the Sorting Hat on your head and it will sort you.”

Max blinked. “...That’s it? We just have to put on a hat?”

She glanced at Brooke, who was peering at the hat with a dark glitter in her eye.

  
“I wonder how it works…” she muttered under her breath.

“Anderson, Alyssa!”

A girl with dark brown hair shuffled to the front, eyes firmly at her own feet. A good idea, Max thought - made sure she didn’t trip.

Max tuned out much of what happened next. She heard the Hat shout out a few houses - ‘Gryffindor,’ for the brunette girl after a very long pause, and a few Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.

She glanced at Brooke.

“What about you?” she muttered under her breath.

Brooke glanced at her. “Hm?”

“What house are you expecting to go in?”

Brooke paused.

Pursed her lips as she appeared to consider the matter, before making a sharp nod full of finality. “...Ravenclaw. I’m most likely going to go into Ravenclaw.”

Max nodded - and smiled at her.

“Wanna study together? I’m having trouble with potions.”

Brooke opened her mouth to answer - but, before she could, Hoida’s voice sliced through the air.

“Caulfield, Maxine!”

She nearly tripped over herself in her rush to the front.

Hoida gave her an encouraging smile as she got to the front, and hopped onto the stool.

The last thing she saw before the Hat fell over her head, was Brooke - who mouthed a very exaggerated,

‘Yes.’

She smiled.

And the Hat settled on her head.

**_Hm._ **

She startled.

The Hat’s voice -  _ well, ‘voice’ _ \- was oddly quiet in her head. She had expected it to have the booming, sonorous tone that it’d had when it sung. Instead, it’s voice was quiet and soft, hardly even a whisper.

She felt the eyes of the entire Great Hall upon her, even through the brim of the Hat - which had flopped over her eyes.

**_Maxine Ca-_ **

_ Max. _

**_Hm?_ **

She fidgeted a little on the stool - but didn’t relent.

_ It’s Max. _

**_...Max, then._** There was a slight lilt of amusement in the Hat’s tone. **_Well, you’re an easy one, ‘Max.’_**

She felt the Hat move atop her head - and her thought barely stopped it from shouting out whatever it was going to say.

_ What? I’m easy? _

**_Mm? Oh, yes, dreadfully so. A born Slytherin I’d say._ **

She felt it move again - but she jumped, and practically shouted at it.  _ What?! I’m not a Slytherin! _

A beat.

And the Hat  _ laughed. _

**_NOT a Slytherin? My dear, how blind can you be? And that’s coming from a hat! I’ve never seen a thing in my life!_ **

_ How am I a Slytherin? _ She asked. It was odd, having a conversation in her own head - but much easier than having one outside of it.

**_Well, you don’t care at all about anyone outside of those selected few you deem ‘friends,’ you have no sense of the bigger picture, you’re sly and nearly shockingly stubborn - and your ambition would make Salazar himself proud! Such strong desires, Ms. Caulfield - even such mundane muggle ones. Saving up some money, getting into college - really, you wanted to get a job by sixteen? You’ve no clue what it means to be a child, clearly. Supporting your family, furthering your passions - art, hm? A noble enough pursuit, I suppose. Getting famous, too - oh, fame, that most horrid of desires. Even at such a young age, you were destined for greatness! Why, my young pirate, you’ve been a Slytherin all your life. The only thing that ever could’ve stopped you from getting where you wanted to go was that friend of yours dragging you down. No, putting you anywhere else would be a betrayal to his house. So, as I was saying-_ **

It shifted atop her head again, and, again, she stopped it.

People were starting to murmur now. Mainly because of all the false starts - she could tell that her interruptions were starting to frustrate the Hat.

_ Please! Can’t you put me in Gryffindor? I really want to be in Gryffindor. _

**_...Gryffindor?_ **

The Hat’s tone was so utterly bland that she had no idea what it thought of the idea.

_...Uh...yeah?  _

**_...Well, this ought to be good. Please, Ms. Caulfield, elucidate me. Why on earth should I put you in Gryffindor?_ **

A beat.

_ I really,  _ really _ want to go there? _

**_Try again._ **

The Hat was starting to sound honestly  _ amused _ at this point - which was more than a little frustrating.

_ I - uhm - I’m a good person? _

**_Are you now?_ **

...Woah. If that wasn’t the worst question she’d ever been asked, she didn’t know what was.

_ I think so? _

**_Well, even if you are - that’s more a reason to put you in Hufflepuff than anything, dear._ **

_ Okay, then put me in Hufflepuff! Anything but Slytherin - please? _

**_You know, Ch-_ **

The Hat’s voice stopped very suddenly - at the same moment that she heard a chair scrape across the floor of the Great Hall, and every murmuring voice stop.

“Ms. Price!” she heard - the voice sounded like the headmaster.

“Put Max in Gryffindor.”

She startled.

_ Chloe? _

“Ms. Price, please lower your wand and-”

“Put. Max. In. Gryffindor.”

Max couldn’t help the absolutely gobsmacked expression that crossed her face - luckily, nobody could see it under the hat.

**_“...GRYFFINDOR!”_ **

And Max could hear a distinct note of amusement in the Hat’s voice.

* * *

Gryffindor started that year at negative fifty points, and Chloe got two weeks detention.

Everyone in Gryffindor hated her for it.

Well, everyone except Max.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the wonderful Rainboq for being my beta! She's got a few wonderful fics of her own, you can find her [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainboq/pseuds/Rainboq)
> 
> This fic, as the summary suggests, will mostly take place in fourth year, but uh. A prologue sorting was calling to me, so.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	2. Can We Talk About Something Else?

Chloe was the first one in the compartment.

It was to be expected. Chloe was always the first one in. Well - these days she was.

She slid the door closed behind her with a dismissive movement - and it slotted into place with a soft  _ click. _

She sneered at it.

“Easy for you, huh?” she muttered, far past the point where talking to doors was below her. “To just  _ fit into place.” _

She sighed. It turned into a groan halfway through.

That happened a lot these days.

She and Max hadn’t seen each other over the Summer. Max had gone on some big trip thing with her parents - to  _ Seattle, _ of all places. Chloe had sent letters, but Max had only responded to the first two or three, usually with vague dismissals about how busy she was.

Whatever. She had better things to do. Chloe wasn’t mad.

...Okay, she wasn’t  _ that _ mad.

She flopped into the bench on the right side of the compartment - letting her whole body melt into the cushions. Nobody else was here yet, to yell at her for being a waste of space.

Well, no. David’s yelling was usually more creative than that.

These Hogwarts Express cushions were  _ ridiculously _ comfy.

She pulled out her wand, and twirled it casually.

“Wingardium Leviosa.”

Her trunk floated into the compartment with an unreplicatable amount of grace.

She wondered what Max would think of her new dyejob.

The floating luggage slid into the racks at the top of the compartment with just as much ease as expected.

She shoved her wand back into her pocket.

And the door slid open.

She perked up - but it was just Brooke.

“...Chloe.” Something about the girl’s voice was very… full. “You’ve acquired a new hair colour over the Summer, I see.”

She gave Brooke a cockeyed grin. It felt painful at the edges.

“Observant as ever. Whaddya think? Pretty awesome, right?”

“Awesome is certainly one word for it,” Brooke said, sitting across from her as her own trunk floated in. It was just as crappy a model as Chloe’s - not because Brooke didn’t have money, her fucked-up pureblood family was as stacked as ever, but rather because Brooke didn’t consider a better-looking trunk something worth wasting money on.

Chloe appreciated that. Brooke never threw around her wealth - with the notable exception of Christmas and birthdays, where she went all-out on her presents.

She’d confessed, once, that she’d never had anyone to buy presents for. Kate had instantly offered her a hug.

Brooke - uncharacteristically - had accepted.

“...It looks good,” Brooke said, eyeing up said hair.

Chloe blinked.

Brooke wasn’t exactly  _ generous _ with compliments. She was incredibly stingy with them, actually - which meant that if she  _ did _ compliment you, she meant it wholeheartedly. Chloe had once been worried about a potions test - her and Max both had a ton of trouble with potions - before Brooke had said, dismissively, that she would pass with flying colours.

It hadn’t exactly completely resolved her concern, but it was certainly a massive load off. If Brooke thought someone was going to ace a test, she was usually dead right.

She had gotten an E plus on the test. Brooke had explained that, in muggle terms, that was an A minus.

Chloe raised an eyebrow at her.

“You think?”

“Yes. If I were a straight male, I would find it quite attractive.”

Chloe grinned. “What if you were a gay female?”

Brooke blinked - and gave her a  _ look. _ “I do hope you aren’t trying to imply something, Chloe.”

“Never,” Chloe assured her, still grinning.

“But,” Brooke said, “if I  _ were _ a homosexual female - purely hypothetically - I imagine I would find it quite attractive, yes. The beanie is a nice touch.”

Chloe smiled. It was almost real this time. “Thanks, dude. You look great too.”

Brooke raised a cold eyebrow. “Correction - I have never looked great in my life. I am objectively gross.”

“Don’t put yourself down, sistah. You look wonderful. I really like the red highlights - makes you look totally badass.”

“I am  _ not _ ‘badass,’” Brooke said, voice and eyes completely blank.

“You broke a dude’s arm for hitting on you!”

“Warren deserved to have his arm broken,” Brooke said, waving a hand at her. “That makes me a deliverer of justice for the entire female population, not ‘badass.’”

“You’re the most badass person I know, Brooke. Straight up.”

Brooke rolled her eyes. “Liar. We both know you’re more badass than me.”

_ Do I know myself, though? _

“Okay,  _ second _ most badass person I know,” Chloe corrected with a grin. “You’re still awesome.”

“Mm.” Brooke took out her wand without warning.  _ “Muffliato.” _

Chloe blinked at the unfamiliar spell. “What was that for?”

“Just to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. I invented it in my spare time. I wanted to te-”

“Wait - wait, wait, wait.”

Brooke stopped. “What?”

“You  _ invented a spell?” _

“Well, technically, I’ve invented two and am inventing a third, but yes. Now, I was to ask-”

“You can’t just  _ blow past-” _

“I’m gay.”

Chloe’s train of thought screeched to a halt.

Not because she hadn’t known - Brooke hadn’t exactly been  _ discreet _ about her massive crush on Kate - but because getting Brooke to  _ admit it _ was like trying to get dried blood out of a carpet.

Which Chloe could say, from experience,  _ wasn’t easy. _

“...Okay?” Chloe said, eyes wide. “Uh - cool. I guess. I mean, I don’t really care if you are or not-”

“I wanted to ask you what the hell I should do,” Brooke said, staring right through her with eyes that suddenly seemed very, very… young.

“...What you should  _ do?” _

“Yes.”

Chloe stared.

Brooke didn’t move.

“You… I… don’t understand? I mean, you don’t really have to  _ do _ anything about being gay. It’s just… a part of you.”

“Well, parts of you can be removed, can’t they?”

_ That _ got a reaction from Chloe - who sat up for the first time since entering the compartment.

Brooke’s eyes were wide, and… almost  _ pleading. _ They were starting to glimmer in the light.

“Someone with an infected limb can be amputated,” Brooke went on, hands making slightly wild gestures as she talked. Her eyes left Chloe to peer out the window - and then look at her hands - and then, instantly, latched back onto her. “Someone with cancer can have the infected cells killed. Right?”

“...Being gay isn’t a  _ disease, _ Brooke,” Chloe said, eyes sharp upon her - as she started to feel an awful understanding tickle the back of her mind.

“Arguable,” Brooke said - and the word was so sharp and short that it pierced something deep in Chloe’s chest. “There must be a spell for this. I wanted to as-”

The door slid open.

Chloe actually  _ saw _ Brooke close up - like a cautious squirrel that you had been tempting with food being suddenly chased away by a passing car. Her eyes went dead flat again, her shoulders went back to being that odd kind of deadly tense, and her hands fell to her knees and gripped the cloth of her jeans.

She turned just barely a moment later. Chloe darted a glance over.

It was Kate.

“Ah. Katherine. You really ought to knock.”

Kate smiled. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Kate, Brooke?”

“Well, clearly, at least one more.”

Kate giggled. Chloe couldn’t help but notice Brooke’s fist tighten - her knuckles were turning a nearly alarming shade of white.

Kate had become a member of their little cross-house group of friends after Max had paired with her in potions, third year. Well - it had been Chloe’s third year, Max’s second. Their ‘gaggle,’ as Max so aptly called it, had become something of a curiosity over the years - with two Gryffindors, two Ravenclaws and one Hufflepuff, they had more diversity than any group of friends since… well, probably since the four founders.

Kate sat next to Brooke - and only Chloe was in a proper position to appreciate just how awful it must’ve been to be Brooke right now. Because Kate, as always, took little issue with things like personal space, and decided to make herself at home - not on the other side of the bench, or even on Chloe’s side - but instead  _ right next _ to the girl with a glaringly obvious crush on her. Close enough that their legs brushed.

That also meant that Chloe could appreciate just how perfectly stoic Brooke was about it. Sure, her hands were so tightly fisted that the indents her nails made would probably last for hours, but other than that, she was remarkably composed.

“Does anyone know where Max is?” Chloe said, mostly to give Brooke time to compose herself a little while Kate set her bag in the next seat.

“She’s always been sleepy. She probably just napped in,” Kate said, fiddling with her rings. Brooke gave her a ring every year for her birthday, after Kate mentioned - as a very small, passing note - how much she’d love to have a lot of rings. She thought they were pretty, apparently.

_ Honestly, _ Chloe thought,  _ you’d have to be blind not to notice how much Brooke was crushing on her. _

Chloe pushed down the very light stirrings of concern in her chest.

“...Yeah. Just napped in. How were you guys’ Summers?”

Kate, instantly, leaned forward, a full Summer clearly on the tip of her tongue - before suddenly stopping, and turning to Brooke.

“How was your Summer, Brooke?”

Brooke blinked - and Chloe could actually  _ see _ her fumble for a response, for a moment.

“Fine,” she said, eventually. “I got a lot of reading done.”

Kate smiled. “Anything interesting?”

Brooke hesitated.   
  


“...The Percy Jackson novels were decent.”

Kate gasped - and a massive, blinding smile lit up her countenance. “You finally read them?”

“Yes.” Brooke was turning a very light shade of pink.

“Oh my God, this - Chloe!” Kate turned on her very suddenly. “Can you believe it? I actually got Brooke to read  _ muggle _ books!!”

“It’s a miracle,” Chloe agreed with a smile - one that rapidly turned teasing when she glanced at Brooke.

Brooke’s expression might as well have been carved from stone.

The smile slipped off her face.

“Well? What did you think?” Kate said, turning on Brooke again with wide eyes. “Which was your favorite? Did you read the second series? Who was your favorite character?  _ Tell me everything.” _

Brooke clearly had to take a second to reboot - but rattled off a quick,

“I thought they were quite good, my favorite was probably The Battle of the Labyrinth - I quite liked Daedalus - I did read the second series, and my favorite character was probably Leo despite the second series being worse than the first.”

Kate - somehow - grinned  _ even wider. _ “I prefer Titan’s Curse, but Battle of the Labyrinth was also really good! And Leo’s  _ amazing, _ isn’t he? Especially that last scene where he rescues Calypso on his dragon - I need to read the newest series, too, what’s it called? The norse one?”

“Magnus Chase,” Brooke said, tone flat as sin.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Kate smiled at her. “You’re really good at that, you know?”

“I do know.”

Kate giggled.

She might only be one year older than them, but Chloe still felt like she was watching two toddlers being adorable.

The door slid open.

Chloe glanced up - and, suddenly, was forced to change her entire mindset from  _ hanging with friends _ to  _ hanging with Rachel. _

“Yo, Rach,” She said, leaning back and propping a knee up on the cushion.

“Chlo,” Rachel said, flopping into the seat next to her - and then raised an eyebrow at Kate and Brooke with a half-smirk, and offered them both a fist-bump. “And the children - what’s going on, little’uns.”

Kate enthusiastically hit her fist. Brooke casually grabbed her hand and shook it.

Rachel laughed. “I see Brooke hasn’t changed over the Summer, at least. What’s happening, Kattie?”

Kate grinned - and reached for her bag that she’d set to the side. The top was flopped open.

She reached in - and gingerly pulled out a cage.

With a bunny in it.

Rachel gasped - and Chloe’s heart melted. Both at the bunny before her, and at the light that came on behind Rachel’s eyes.

“Her name is Alice,” Kate whispered. There was a smile in her voice.

Rachel turned to her. “Kate. Kate.”

“Yeah?”

“That is amazing.”

Kate smiled so widely Chloe thought it probably hurt - and reached into the cage. Her hands were very gentle as they picked up Alice, and pulled her out, before offering her to Rachel.

“Wanna hold her?”

Rachel, clearly, wanted nothing more than to grab Alice and squeeze her - but, instead, she held her hands out, and waited.

Kate - very gently - set Alice down in her palms.

The bunny in question blinked, and leaned down to sniff at the surface she suddenly found herself on.

Rachel’s eyes were wide as saucers, as she breathed out a very quiet ‘awww.’

She leaned in and peered at the rabbit.

“Hey there, girl.”

Alice blinked - and glanced up at her with wide eyes. Rachel laughed softly - and handed her back to Kate.

Kate took her - and turned to Chloe.

“Do you wanna hold her, Chloe?”

Chloe smiled, and leaned over to rub between Alice’s ears. “Nah - I’ll just take a pet, thanks.”

Kate smiled back - and turned to Brooke.

“Brooke?”

Brooke - instantly - held her hands up, like she was defending herself. “Oh, no. No. No way.”

Kate blinked. “Really?”

“Yes. Really,” Brooke said, backed as far away from the bunny as possible.

Kate’s smile slipped away. “I thought you liked animals?”

Chloe repressed the urge to laugh at the way Brooke’s eyes suddenly shifted to pure panic.

“I do. Just. It’s  _ your pet.” _

“What difference does that make?” Kate’s expression was rapidly turning pleading, and it was clear Brooke had no idea what to do about it.

“I just. It. I mean.” Chloe had never seen Brooke  _ lost for words _ before. “What if I killed it or something?”

Kate - suddenly - smiled. “I trust you, Brooke. You won’t do that.”

Brooke stared.

Rachel leaned across the cushion, and murmured to Chloe,

“They’re gay for each other, right? I’m not crazy?”

Chloe snickered. “Oh yeah, they are.”

Kate, without warning, deposited Alice firmly in Brooke’s lap. Brooke froze up like someone had put a gun to her head.

Alice - after a long moment of clear confusion - seemed to decide this new resting place was adequate, and sat down.

Brooke seemed to be having a silent panic attack.

“Well? Pet her,” Kate murmured.

Brooke’s hand - very, very slowly - came to rest between Alice’s ears, and gingerly stroked her fur.

“...Alright, this thing is going to get fur all over me. Take it back now please,” Brooke muttered, sending Kate a glance.

Kate smiled - and picked Alice up, storing her back in her cage.

“We got Alice from a rescue center. It was pretty much the highlight of my Summer.”

“She’s adorable,” Rachel said, clasping her hands in her lap. “And Alice is  _ such _ a good name. You know, when I first read that story, I thought maybe Lewis Carroll was a squib or something - but nope. Just a surprisingly creative muggle.”

“We can be pretty clever,” Kate said, with a soft smile.

Rachel’s voice, very suddenly, lost a lot of its relaxation. “You’re not a muggle.” 

Kate blinked. “...I guess not, but…” 

Her hands fiddled with the bottom of her skirt. “Does it really matter?”

“You’ve got to be proud of your magic, Kate,” Rachel said with a keen eye. “You’re a witch! Be loud and be proud of it, girl!”

Kate - hesitantly - smiled. “I  _ am _ proud. And so are Mom and Dad.”

Rachel nodded, and smiled approvingly.

“Anyway,” Brooke said - leaning forward and breaking the silence that had fallen over the compartment. “Did you guys see the news?”

Chloe blinked. “News?”

“The killings. The muggleborn disappearances,” Brooke supplied. There was something odd brewing in her eyes. “I looked into it some more, and I fo-”

She was cut off by the sliding of the door.

Max blinked at suddenly having the full attention of eight eyes.   
  


“...Hey guys.”

“Max,” Brooke said, giving her a tight smile. “Sit down. We were just talking about the news.”

Max’s expression fell. “You don’t mean-”

“I do.”

Max grimaced as she sat down, setting her trunk down on the floor of the compartment.

This was something odd about Max. She had some kind of immense trouble with the relatively simple levitating spell - and Charms in general. She’d had more trouble with them than potions, which was nearly a miracle in and of itself. She didn’t have much trouble in her other classes - she was a pretty great student overall, with a particularly good Care of Magical Creatures and Transfiguration score. Her History of Magic score had been just above passing every year, mainly because Brooke was an absolute wizard - so to speak - with remembering dates and tiny details, and was more than willing to help Max study.

But her Charms grade was only ever passing because of her written work. The only charm she’d ever been successful with was a hex they’d been taught that made someone breath smoke. It had been a fun, spare class, without a grade attached - but Max had excelled with it.

“Really bad stuff,” Max muttered, “I hate pureblood elitist stuff like that.”

“Wait - so there’s, like, a serial killer or something?” Chloe asked, adjusting her beanie a little.

“A serial kidnapper,” Brooke corrected. “It took awhile for the Ministry to even realize anything was happening, because muggleborn cases are more often left to the muggle government. But they can’t ignore all the reported cases anymore - and the disappearances are pretty obviously magical in nature. Pretty obvious evidence of apparition around the crime scenes - when the Ministry gets to the scene fast enough to find them before they disperse, that is - and the snapped wand they always leave. A muggle wouldn’t know to snap the wand, of course. And the fact that it’s exclusively muggleborn witches at all shows that the perpetrator must at least be aware of magic.”

“It could be a squib,” Rachel said. Max was starting to squirm a little in her seat. “Apparition signs can be very easily misread. Especially old ones.”

“I don’t think so. Signs of apparition this consistent wouldn’t be just misreadings - plus, even if they  _ were, _ there has to be  _ some _ kind of magic for something to show up in the first place.”

“It could be a potion,” Rachel fired back. “They leave signs of magic, too. You can’t rule out squibs unless you’re  _ completely sure _ \- and if it  _ were _ a squib, they could be purposefully trying to make themselves seem like a wizard. A squib would have more motivation to kill muggleborns in particular, too.”

Their conversations were often hijacked like this. It was a natural consequence of having two Ravenclaws in the same room.

“I don’t think the papers would publish anything about signs of apparition unless they were sure. It would be bad for their rep if they were wrong,” Brooke said, biting one of her nails thoughtfully.

“Can we please talk about something else?” Max muttered.

Brooke blinked. “...Ah. Of course, Max. Sorry.”

It had taken a solid month for Brooke to stop nearly calling Max ‘Maxine.’ She said she preferred the longer version - but it was Max’s name, and she’d do her best. She still called everyone else whatever she wanted, though, as long as they didn’t actively dissuade her from it.

There was the screech of a train whistle.

“Seems we’re going off,” Brooke said, tapping two fingers against her knee. “So - how was your Summer, Max?”

(Nobody mentioned the disappearances again for the rest of the ride.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tired and impatient and happy to be publishing this. Took a hot second.
> 
> Hope you liked it. Not much to say aside from that.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	3. This Action Will Have Consequences

Max’s feet sunk into the mud.

The ride had been as long as usual. It was dark outside by now - the castle barely visible along the horizon. They’d been dropped off at Hogsmeade station - and had to ride the carriages up to the castle. The first years got to ride a boat across the great lake, but the carriages were faster, and only the first years would appreciate the grandeur of the lake method.

The carriages pulled themselves. More magic. If you asked Max, having the carriages literally pull themselves was a little showy - but she supposed that it was probably a little more efficient, too. Probably. 

  
Chloe had claimed, last year, that they were actually pulled by black, skeletal horses. She’d been rather insistent about this joke - at least, until everyone else paired up to explain to her that  _ no, _ emo horses did  _ not _ pull the carriages. She’d finally cracked then, and snickered, telling them all to chill out and take a joke.

Max ripped her boot out of the mud. Chloe had given her the most  _ killer _ pair of boots for Christmas year before last - they still fit to this day, because Max’s feet were tiny and refused to grow larger before age sixteen.

The rest of the gaggle trotted forward to their carriage. Clearly, everyone else had managed to avoid the patch of mud.

Brooke glanced back.

She paused - and leaned over to stop Kate. The second Kate turned around, she gasped, and started rushing to help her.

Max smiled as she ripped her other boot out of the mud.

“I’m fine,” she said, as Kate and Brooke came close enough to hear her. “Just a little mud.”

Kate gave her boots a worried glance. “Are you sure?”

Max barely caught the glance, and half-smile, Brooke gave Kate at that. About ninety-five percent of Brooke’s smiles were aimed at, or because of, Kate.

“Yes, Katherine, she’s sure. Max, you should really call if you need help. I’m sure Chloe or Rachel would be better people to help yank you from a patch of mud, if they had known.”

Max blushed, walking towards the carriages. Brooke and Kate walked with her - Kate still giving her dirty boots a glance now and then.

“I don’t wanna be a bother. Rachel and Chloe are already having a conversation, and I can get myself out of some mud.”

Brooke peered at her.

Kate did the same over Brooke’s shoulder.

“What if it was something worse than mud?” Brooke asked, just as Kate said, “We’re your friends, Max! It wouldn’t be a bother!”

They both blinked.

  
Brooke glanced over her shoulder - and leaped back when she noticed how close Kate was.

Kate yanked back a little herself, and flushed to her collar. “Sorry.”

Brooke, after a moment, muttered something under her breath - and said, aloud, “It’s fine.” She glanced at Max. “My point still holds water.”

“Well, it’s done now,” Max muttered. “Let’s get to the school?”

Kate jumped over, and looped an arm around Brooke and Max’s shoulders. “You wanna sit at the Hufflepuff table this time, guys? Rachel and Chloe can do their own thing! It’s about time for the little’uns to hang out!”

“That’s Rachel’s term,” Brooke said flatly, going limp as a noodle the second Kate’s arms were offering firm support.

“Well, I’m sure she won’t mind if we borrow it, right? Rachel’s a sweetheart, she’d lend it to us.”

Max giggled under her breath. Brooke rolled her eyes - but Max saw the smile tugging at her lips.

“Let’s go, then,” Brooke muttered, flopping forward weakly so that she could point towards the carriages.

Kate slipped her arms off their shoulders, and rushed for the carriage.

“I love you,” Brooke murmured under her breath, the second Kate was out of range.

Max turned to her, and did her best to smile. “...She’ll realize some day. And you’ll have the world’s most adorable kiss.”

Brooke sighed.

And then straightened, eyes sharpening again.

  
“You wish. Our first kiss is gonna make you  _ squirm, _ Max. I’m not getting any peck or gentle make-out after all this time.

“I’m gonna  _ ravage _ her,” Brooke muttered, a dark glimmer in her eye.

“That’s the spirit,” Max hummed with a smile. “I’ll make sure to turn away.”

Brooke’s hand curled into a fist. “...Max?”

“Yeah, Brooke?”

“I don’t know what to do.”

Max blinked. “About what?”

“About…  _ this. _ Being a lesbian. Realizing it.”

They’d had a long conversation about Brooke’s sexuality over Discord, while Brooke’s parents were out of the house. Max had just wished she could’ve been there, to give Brooke a hug.

“...I can let you stay at my place, if you need it. But we aren’t going to change you, Brooke. No spells, no curses. If your parents can’t accept who you are, then… I’ve got a spare sleeping bag? As long as you can live with  _ muggles, _ of course,” Max muttered with a smile.

Brooke snorted. “Well, I could probably live with it, I suppose.”

There was a pause.

“Thanks, Max.”

Max smiled. “No problem, Brooke.”

“...We should probably catch up with Kate.”

Max hesitated.

And pulled Brooke into a hug.

Brooke froze up - and then melted. Her hands gripped at the back of Max’s robes - and Max felt her let out a heavy, shuddering breath.

Max just held her.

_ “...Shit, _ I’m scared,” Brooke muttered, gripping her like she was the only stable thing in the world. “I’m  _ so scared, _ Max.”

“...You want some chocolate? I’ve got a chocolate frog left from the trolley.”

Brooke laughed weakly - and pulled back. Her eyes were a little wet. “Please.”

Max reached into her pocket, and pulled out the frog.

Brooke devoured it with relish. It was a little scary, honestly.

“...Feel better?”

Brooke nodded - and offered her one of those rare smiles. A wide, full,  _ real _ one. “Much better.”

“Cool. Let’s go meet up with Kate, okay?”

Brooke nodded - and started walking to the carriage.

Max spent only a moment wondering what might happen because of this. What the consequences might be.

Her hand came to rest next to her pocket - where she knew the letter from Hoida sat.

She wondered what might happen if she could undo it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brooke: I'm gonna get with Kate. Promise.  
> Me: Looks at tags  
> Me: O rly?
> 
> I headcanon Brooke being touch-starved as fuck and you can't stop me from inserting it into my stories.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	4. You're Scaring Us

_ No spells. No curses. _

Brooke Scott was a russian doll.

When she was eleven years old, she had made the single best decision in her prepubescent life, and talked to Max Caulfield. She had no doubt that, without Max, so much of her life would be so different.

She’d probably have no friends. Total loner. She probably would’ve been  _ happy _ to have no friends, too. Less people to bother her. She never would’ve stayed up all night, trying in vain to teach Max and Chloe to be decent at potions. She never would’ve been forced to spend Christmas in the Gryffindor dorms, surrounded by idiots cheering about their presents. She never would’ve had to spend all her saved up money on presents.

She never would’ve worn muggle clothes.

Brooke was a russian doll. She was shells upon shells upon shells, false masks over masks, a puzzle inside a riddle locked in the center of a labyrinth with a mystery on top. And, below everything, was just…

Emptiness.

One day, a long time ago, she’d fallen asleep in one of the chairs in the Gryffindor dorms. She’d stayed up all night with Max and Chloe, studying over their History of Magic notes and managing to learn things about next year’s classes while she helped the blonde - former blonde - straighten out the mess of a notebook she had.

When she’d woken up, she’d been forced to stand and get ready right after for the first time in years. Every step had hurt.

Kate told her that she should smile more.

‘

_ No spells. No curses. _

She sat next to Max when they arrived at the carriage. Rachel and Chloe had gone off on their own - they had friends their own age, anyway. Kate sat across from them, and gave them a wide smile when they entered.

Brooke did her best to hide as far in the corner of the carriage as she could. Two walls to her back. It made her feel less small - being surrounded.

Her hand fisted some of the cloth on her robes.

_ No spells. No curses. _

That’s what Max had said.

Max. The only girl she’d ever spent a Summer with. The one who had first shown her muggle clothes, and made her try them. They were weird. Tight.

She’d looked at herself in the mirror, wearing a white button-up dress shirt tucked into black pants, and felt… 

Felt like the person looking back at her wasn’t a stranger.

She’d bought them.

Her parents had burned them, and told her that she wasn’t to wear muggle clothes.

_ No spells. No curses. _

She was a lesbian.

(Her parents had once told her what happened to gay heirs of pureblood families. They either ‘got better…’

Or the parents tried again.)

“Woah - uh, Brooke? Your hands… um…”

Brooke blinked - and glanced down at her curled up fist.

Smoke was gently billowing up from her robes.

She blinked.

“...Hm. Fascinating.”

Kate and Max were both staring at her, with something between worry and confusion, as she reached into her pocket and pulled out her wand.

She fit it into her curled up hand - and thought about her parents. About what they would think when she came out to them.

A gentle flame lit at the end of her wand.

Brooke stood - while Max and Kate both got as far as they could from the open flame.

She began to gently trace the flame through the air with closed eyes, as she thought about the danger she was in. The scorn on their faces. The impossibly sickening feeling in her stomach - like a black hole had opened up there.

About Kate. How beautiful she was in the candlelight, that first time Brooke had seen her in the Great Hall.

She opened her eyes.

Multicolour fumes were crawling along the roof of the carriage, and spilling out the window.

She’d always been good with fire. It had been one of her favorite charms - ‘incendio’. Apparently, though, emotion wasn’t just a gateway to having that memory-like gateway between incantations and that part of your brain that influenced your use of magic - apparently, emotion could pull magic from you all on its own.

Fascinating.

“Brooke - maybe you should stop… whatever you’re doing…” Max muttered, eyes firmly on the flame at the tip of her wand.

She raised an eyebrow at her best friend. “What’s wrong, Max? Not okay with a little danger?”

“I just-”

Brooke cut her off by glancing at Kate - and flicking her wand.

A pink, yellow, and blue flare burst at the tip of her wand. Kate yelped, and Max flinched back.

A sort of sick satisfaction brewed in Brooke’s gut.

_ Scared, Katherine? So am I. That’s what you make me feel. That’s what you made me  _ into. _ Look close - and be scared. _

She flicked it again. Another bright flare went off, with a sound like a gunshot - purple, pink, and blue this time.

Kate backed as far away as she could. “Brooke - Brooke, please, stop! This is dangerous!”

Max stared at her with wide eyes. “Brooke, you… you’re scaring me.”

Brooke blinked.

Glanced down.

The flame at the edge of her wand was slowly turning a weird, light blue colour.

Suddenly - fear flared in her gut.

She lurched to the door of the carriage - and slammed it open. The cold night air spilled in, and hit her like a slap in the face.

She whipped her wand outside - and a flare of emotion burst in her ribcage. Fear, anger, denial, pain. It all clung to her ribs like sparks and dug into her nerves.

“NOX!”

It was a scream. The spell to put out a light.

It was a scream for help.

The flame shot out from the edge of her wand, and glided through the air for a long, silent moment. Her shout echoed into the fields.

The flame burst into a rainbow of sparks.

_ No spells. No curses. _

It was dead silent in the carriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. I knew the Brooke POV chapter was gonna hurt.
> 
> Next chapter will be out tomorrow. If you haven't noticed, for every chapter after the prologue I'm changing POV. It's quite fun, and a good way to get these characters established.
> 
> It's morning. I'm groggy. And there isn't much to say. I hope you liked the chapter.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	5. If You'd Be Okay, Living With Muggles

Rachel Amber did her best to be a genuine person.

Chloe and Steph stepped out of the carriage after her. Chloe came up next to her, hands in her pockets, while Steph leaned over and flopped her arm and head over Rachel’s shoulder.

“Hey, Rachel, I wanted to ask you and Chloe if you’d wanna join my study group. We’re preparing for a really bad DADA year - that curse is  _ really _ messing up our grades.”

“There’s not a  _ curse, _ dude,” Chloe said, twirling her wand. “You can’t lay a curse on a  _ job.” _

“I dunno, Gryff,” Steph said with an easy grin. “Preeeetty sure you can. I mean, it’d take a really powerful wizard, but-”

“An  _ unreasonably _ powerful wizard, yeah,” Chloe said. “And why would anyone wanna curse a  _ teaching _ position?”

“Girls, girls,” Rachel said, slipping away from Steph’s grasp and turning around to smile at both of them. “You’re  _ both _ pretty. And maybe we should wait until the teacher actually turns out to be bad, Steph?”

Chloe turned a shade of pink that made Rachel smile even wider. Steph dramatically flopped herself over Chloe now that Rachel was unavailable - something which Chloe was clearly just  _ barely _ allowing.

“Oh come on. The last four were all  _ terrible. _ I think we can agree there’s a pretty predictable pattern already. ...Has anyone ever told you you’re really soft, Chloe?”

“Yes,” Chloe deadpanned. Rachel snickered under her breath.

“Well, they were right,” Steph fired back, glancing up to peer at her. Rachel couldn’t help but wonder, not for the first time, if Steph might have a thing for Chloe - she always seemed to relish staying her usual upbeat, nerdy self despite Chloe’s attempts to deadpan her for the last year. “You’re soft and warm. Like a kitten.”

“Compare me to a kitten again,” Chloe muttered, giving her a look brimming with malice.

“Otter, then,” Steph said with a grin. “Even cuter.”

_ Okay, yeah, Steph definitely has some kind of thing for Chloe. _

“Steph, I swear to God-”

“What’s a god?” Steph said - Chloe let out a heavy breath.

“We went over this, remember, Steph?” Rachel said with a smile. “It’s a muggle thing.”

“Oh. I don’t remember that  _ at all. _ Did I tell you guys I went to a muggle shopping center? They’ve got some really weird clothes! I really like the - what were they called… crop tops? I’d  _ pay _ to see a few girls in one of  _ those.” _

Steph was pretty openly lesbian. Her parents, despite being purebloods, were very accepting of this - seeing as how Steph had an older brother who could pick up the bloodline.

Rachel glanced at Chloe. “Have you ever worn one of those, Chlo?”

Chloe nodded. “Yep. With my leather jacket. Good pairing for skateboarding.”

Rachel caught Steph’s eyes misting over, a little.

“...Skateboarding? What’s that?”

Chloe, uncharacteristically, grinned in response to something Steph had said. “Only the coolest thing ever. You ride on a board with wheels and try not to fall off and crack your head open.”

Steph raised her eyebrows - and grinned. “Sounds pretty metal.”

‘Metal’ was one of Steph’s favorite muggle terms.

“It is,” Chloe said, still grinning. “It’s amazing. I should teach you guys over the Summer.”

Steph instantly seemed tempted to leap at the offer - but Rachel felt just a little disgust start to bloom in her chest.

“No thanks, Chlo,” she said, grimacing a little.

Steph’s expression wilted. “What? Why not, Rachel? It sounds like a lotta fun.”

“Fun? The muggle world? Pass,” Rachel said with a discreet eye roll. No, she wasn’t going to spend her Summer with  _ muggles. _ “Thanks anyway, though, Chloe. It was thoughtful of you.”

“Well, if the offer’s still open without Rachel joining in, I’d love to, Chloe,” Steph offered, standing up and not putting half her weight on Chloe for the first time since the conversation started. 

“...You know what? Sure. Why the fuck not,” Chloe offered, giving Steph an unenthuisiatic thumbs-up.

“Why the fuck not!” Steph crowed with a wide smile. “Thanks so much, Chloe. I’ve always wanted to spend some time in the muggle world - and I’ll have an experienced guide, with you around.”

“Yep. Gotta make sure you don’t make an idiot of yourself,” Chloe muttered. Rachel did her best not to interrupt. This was sweet, after all, and seeing Chloe and Steph finally make nice after the last year of one-sided friendliness was wonderful, but…

They were bonding over their shared love of muggles.

Rachel was tolerant, though. She knew her friends were wrong, but. With enough time, she could convince them of the truth, she knew.

She still loved them, no matter what. And they deserved to be given a chance.

“Well, now that that’s settled,” Rachel said - the conversation instantly deferred to her, as she had known it would. “Let’s get to the school, huh? Steph, if the teacher  _ does _ end up being terrible, I’d be happy to join that study group - but I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt.”

Steph nodded. “Sounds good. Chloe?”

Chloe scratched her cheek. “...Sure, I’ll tag along. Where’s it gonna be at? The library?”

“Actually,” Steph said with a smile, “I found this  _ killer _ room on the seventh floor, across the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. You just walk past the same wall three times, and it gives you this massive room with a crap ton of books! I recognized a lot of my favorites, actually - and I nearly gobbled up those books on jinxes and hexes on the spot. And it even had a bass! Best muggle instrument, hands down.”

Steph looked so happy every time she used a muggle phrase - like ‘hands down’ or ‘killer,’ that it almost warmed Rachel’s heart.

“But don’t tell anyone about it, alright? It’s just between us.” Steph mimed zipping her lips.

Chloe nodded. Rachel smiled. “Alright, Steph.”

(Chloe had her fingers crossed behind her back.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rachel's chapter. One of my favorites so far. 
> 
> I wrote Steph weird. My first time writing her. Tell me what you think.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	6. Knut For Your Thoughts?

Kate loved Hogwarts.

She’d been concerned, at first, when Ms. Hoida had come to her house to introduce magic to her parents. They’d known there was something  _ up _ with her (they used the term  _ ‘wrong _ with her,’ actually, but that was understandable. It was unnatural, after all), but still, having an actual honest-to-God  _ witch _ come to their doorstep certainly… shook them, a little.

And then learning that Kate had pagan magic in her…

Well, needless to say, they weren’t exactly ecstatic about it.

But - despite Ms. Hoida’s kindness about the thing, and the  _ appearance _ of a choice… it was pretty clear that Hogwarts didn’t put much stake in what  _ muggles _ had to say about her attending.

Kate knew about racism, of course. She knew it existed, and she knew it was awful. But she’d never actually been forced to interact with any racists.

...Well. That was arguable. She’d never been forced to interact with anyone who proudly claimed that their race was superior, anyway. Maybe people who were a little more subtle about it - who made tiny, quiet jabs, all the while making sure the person they were talking to knew they  _ definitely weren’t racist, no way in hell. _

But the magical world wasn’t that type of racist. The magical world didn’t view racism as a bad thing.

  
They were loud and proud about their racism.

It honestly baffled Kate. It didn’t make any sense at all. Honestly, it seemed like the vast majority of wizards and witches had never even had a single interaction with a muggle - and they made truly bizarre statements and assumptions about muggles and their culture.

On one level, Kate tried to sympathize. She liked seeing both sides of every argument.

So, okay. She understood how they could be scared of muggles. They’d had witch burnings in the past, after all. Muggles had prosecuted them first.

But still - muggles were a lot more tolerant now! And, even if she could understand being afraid of - and thus, biased against - muggles,

She  _ couldn’t _ understand hating muggleborn wizards and witches for the same reason.

Brooke had given her a book, once. Just - out of the blue. It was about something called ‘scientific racism,’ and how it worked.

After Kate had finished it, Brooke had said - with a tone much older than a (at the time) thirteen-year-old’s voice had any right to be,

“That’s what the wizarding world does. Has  _ always _ done. They claim that muggleborns are inferior, using ‘science’ - and because science is oftentimes practically a religion, people just  _ believe it. _ They believe that the ‘experts’ know what they’re saying, and what they’re doing. It’s why you have to question everything, Kate. Question everything, question always. No matter how many people say it’s true - if you don’t have iron-clad evidence for it  _ for yourself, _ don’t try to make any kind of decision. Because that decision won’t be informed.”

Brooke had then explained that this philosophy was why she was the only pureblood witch who had muggleborn friends in the  _ whole school. _ Some of them had half-blood friends, or had muggleborns who were associated with less pureblooded friends of theirs - this was the group she claimed Rachel fell into, with her being friends with the half-blooded Chloe and thus Kate by association - but none of them had direct muggleborn friends.

None of them but her.

Brooke was amazing.

Oh, but she was thinking about Hogwarts, not Brooke.

Hogwarts was amazing. She might not love everyone there; the potions teacher was kind of mean, as was the principal, and they never kept a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for more than a year - and a lot of people just kind of ignored her, when they weren’t giving her little glances that Kate tried to convince herself she was just imagining…

What was she thinking about?

Right. Hogwarts, and how amazing it was.

Well, whether the people there liked her or not, Hogwarts was amazing. The staircases moved, the Great Hall was gorgeous, she got to hang out with Brooke and Max and Chloe and Rachel. Even just the carriage ride filled her with warm, fuzzy feelings.

Well. Usually it did, anyway.

Her eyes drifted to Brooke again as they walked through the front gates, just outside the castle.

Brooke caught her staring.

“Yes?”

“Nothing!” she said, whipping her head around so fast she was surprised her neck didn’t crack. She saw Brooke raise her eyebrows in her peripherals.

“...Okay then.”

The castle loomed over them.

Despite the malice implied in that thought, Kate couldn’t bring herself to be afraid of Hogwarts. Not this beauty of a castle.

Hogwarts was her home away from home - and Kate loved her no matter what.

Suddenly - a hand was stuck in her face.

A hand with a copper coin in it.

Wait - no, scratch that. It was a bronze coin. A knut, to be specific - the magical equivalent of a quarter, practically.

Kate glanced towards the source of the hand - and found Brooke staring right at her.

Brooke tilted her hand, so the knut was resting in the center of her palm - and held it out to her like an offering.

“Knut for your thoughts?”

Kate smiled at her. “Just how lucky I am to be a witch.”

Brooke nodded. “Yes, you are. Magic is quite amazing.”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause. Kate wondered where Max was - she would’ve broken the awkward moment by now, if she were here.

“...I’m sorry,” Brooke said, suddenly.

Kate blinked. “What?”

“Sorry. For my little show, in the carriage. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

_ Well, ‘little show’ is one word for it, I guess. _

“It’s okay,” Kate murmured, scratching her neck. “...Are you okay, Brooke?”

Brooke blinked.

“Of course I am.”

“You sure? Because if you need my help, or - or anything at all, I can do my best to do whatever for you?”

For a moment - something dark and glittering flared in Brooke’s eyes.

And then it vanished.

“I’m fine, thanks,” she said, turning forward again. “Let’s go watch this Sorting and get some food. I’m famished.”

She started walking off before Kate could respond.

Kate nervously tugged at the edge of her sleeves.

She saw Max walk up next to her in her peripherals.

“...You don’t know what’s up with Brooke, do you?” she asked, glancing at Max as she did.

Max just shrugged.

“...I just… wish I could help her. That she would  _ let _ me help her.”

Max didn’t respond for a long, long moment - before finally saying, “maybe she just needs some time to figure some stuff out.”

Kate stared out into the distance.

Hogwarts stood before her.

“...It just… sometimes it feels like she doesn’t understand what it means to be  _ friends _ with someone,” Kate said. “It means you’re open with them. And that they’ll support you, no matter what.”

Max hesitated.

“...Maybe ‘friends’ means something different to her than it does to us.”

Kate let herself stare off - hungry and worried and so very, very tired - for just one more moment.

And then she straightened. “Well - we’ve just got to support her, right? First step to that - sitting together at the Hufflepuff table, and watching this Sorting!”

She grabbed Max’s hand.

  
“To Brooooke!” she called out dramatically - while Max yelped behind her, and stumbled in her effort to catch up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's Kate's chapter - nice and early for ya. Which just leaves one more POV to switch to ;)
> 
> For those of you who don't know Harry Potter super well - which is probably quite a few of you - this world and worldbuilding is all in the novels and Pottermore and stuff. So if something stupid comes up, or a stupid name for something, it's not my fault. I'm just following Rowling. I am doing my best to make this understandable to people who just vaguely know the HP world, though. As a side note, that also applies to anyone reading this who knows HP but isn't familiar with Life is Strange - yes, every character in this is from the game. None of them - so far, anyway - are OCs. The only thing original about this story is gonna be the plot - which we've already gotten some hints about, if you're keeping a sharp eye out for details. And a little foreshadowing here and there.
> 
> The next chapter should be the last of what I'm dubbing the 'intro' to this fic. After next chapter, every character should be firmly established, the character arcs should all be set to start progressing, and maybe we can finally get to a plot.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	7. Mind Your Own Business

Entering the Great Hall was just as impactful as usual.

Victoria knew that this was intentional architectural design. You entered those massive doors, and suddenly the very stones in the wall were tricking your brain into thinking you were entering this grand, amazing  _ palace. _ That you couldn’t disturb a single thing - that you must be humble before this sign of unprecedented splendour. 

Fuck that.

She found her seat at the Slytherin table. One of her hands came to rest on the tabletop - and her nails began to roll.

_ Cli-cli-cli-clack. _

_ Cli-cli-cli-clack. _

After a long moment - Nathan came to sit next to her.

“Prescott,” she acknowledged, her rolls stopping. She sat as still as a statue.

“Chase,” he allowed, turning and giving her a look brimming with emotion.

(She still remembered when he had just been the overly-emotional, arrogant playboy.)

“Where are the new kids?” he said, leaning over to toy with a fork. Unlike her, Nathan seemed incapable of standing still - his fingers would tap and his knees would bounce whenever he wasn’t busy. Sometimes, Victoria thought that the only reason he was still sane was because classes provided him so many other things to focus on.

“Not here yet, Nathan,” she said, turning so that he couldn’t see her roll her eyes. Now that the introductions were over, they could refer to each other in a less formal fashion.

This was what it was like, on the very top of the social circles.

“...Right. I knew that already, didn’t I?” he muttered, staring into the surface of a spoon.

“Yes.”

His hands alternated rapidly between digging into themselves, knuckles white with tension, and sprawled loosely on the table, shaking slightly.

Her eyes wandered over the tables.

“You’re shaking, Nathan,” she muttered, making sure her lips didn’t move too much.

Nathan went tense. “...Really? I - I took my potions-”

_ “Then take another,” _ she hissed, whipping to him. She couldn’t have  _ Prescott _ ruining her reputation with his damned jumpiness.

“Right. Yeah, yeah, right,” he bit, a little bit of old bitterness stirring in his eyes as he dug a flask out of his robes.

Her and Nathan were best friends.

He slugged the potion back in a single motion - and a deep-seated shudder ran through his body.

And he went still.

“...Tastes like rotten eggs…” he muttered, tapping his thumb against his fist.

“Cry me a river,” she said, propping her elbow on the table and resting her head against her hand.

“Y’know,” he hissed, knuckles turning white as his hand clenched. “One of these days, I’m gonna fuckin’  _ own _ you. Maybe you should show some respect.”

A little bit of the old bitterness touched the bottom of her stomach - along with a spark of disgust.

“Maybe  _ you _ should watch what you say in public, Nathan,” she said, raising a cool eyebrow at him. “People will think we hate each other.”

He snorted. There was no humour in it. “Yeah, like nobody thinks that alrea-”

“You  _ know _ what to do and what not to do, Nathan,” she said, giving him a glare full of old tiredness. “I shouldn’t have to keep telling you.”

“...I hate this fucking place.”

“They would’ve gobbled you up at Durmstrang,” she said, leaning her head against her hand again. “People wouldn’t have respected you if you went to Beauxbatons. And you  _ know _ how many muggle-loving politicians there are overrunning Ilvermorny. You would’ve been  _ surrounded _ by mudbloods. Hogwarts was the only option.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t hate it,” he said.

“It  _ does _ mean you should be a little more quiet about it  _ at the public table,” _ she said carefully, picking a piece of lint off her robes.

“Not like anyone’s  _ listening…” _

“Someone’s  _ always _ listening, Nathan.”

Something young shimmered in his eyes, for a moment. “Well, gee, thanks Mom. That sure is comforting.”

Vic gave him a flat look. “Hilarious.”

“...When do the shits get here? I wanna eat,” he said, tapping one of his feet.

“That makes two of us,” she muttered, before saying aloud; “They’ll get here when they get here, Nathan. Have some patience.”

“You’re so fucking helpful, you know that?”

“I live to serve.”

He glanced at her - and his eyes glittered in that young way again. “Phrasing.”

“What about it? You’re the one always harping on about how we’re going to be married.”

“...Yeah.”

She raised an eyebrow - and fell under the urge to smirk at him. “What’s wrong? Don’t you love me?”

_ “Hilarious,” _ he said, in an impression of her that was a little better than it had any right to be.

Her eyes wandered.

The table she ended up staring at was Hufflepuff.

Students milling about. Leaning over each other. Talking.  _ Laughing. _

Something odd opened up in her gut.

Luckily, it was replaced by disgust when she saw the little cross-house brigade.

They were short two members. She supposed the blondes had gone off on their own - with the rest of their yearmates.

Well, no, there was still one blonde left. She was the only one with an actual Hufflepuff tie; sandwiched between the Gryffindor - little mousy brunette with a smattering of freckles, so obviously a mudblood - and…

Scott.

Scott was the only one worth remembering. Scott was the kind of opponent that Victoria really  _ hated. _ Scott…

Well, the biggest problem was that Scott could match her blow for blow in a contest of wits.

...No. No, that wasn’t the biggest problem. The  _ biggest _ problem was that she was a blood traitor. Victoria had no idea how she still had her family name -  _ her _ parents would’ve disowned her years ago, if she’d made friends with  _ Hufflepuffs. _ Much less  _ mudbloods. _

The light glinted off Scott’s glasses.

Victoria’s stomach turned.

The worst thing was that Scott could’ve been a wonderful ally. Victoria would’ve  _ relished _ the chance to have open discussions with someone who understood the importance of hiding themselves from the world,  _ and _ was smart enough to do it properly.

Instead, Scott was her enemy.

Her hand curled up slightly. It didn’t clench - Chases didn’t clench their hands - but it did… curl.

She saw Brooke’s lips move.

She’d been taught to read lips - so she could just barely make out,

_ I think Victoria Chase is staring at you, Kate. _

The Hufflepuff -  _ Kate? _ \- blinked, and whipped towards her.

She averted her eyes.

The second she saw the girl - Kate, apparently - turn back to Brooke, she risked looking over again.

Brooke turned to her the moment she did, and mouthed,

_ Mind your own business for a change. _

Her stomach turned.

Her cheeks burned as she turned away.

“...Are you  _ blushing?” _

Her face screwed up - and her voice came out as a quiet, fierce snarl when she whipped to Nathan.

_ “No.” _

Nathan didn’t respond.

The doors opened.

She turned to the entranceway - and instantly grasped on the subject change.

“Let’s just watch the Sorting and eat.”

Nathan - still - didn’t respond. His hand gripped a piece of silverware.

They watched the Sorting in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy Nathan's here. It's the first time I've ever written him. I've decided to play with his characterization some. Hope you like it.
> 
> Also Victoria's here. Not the first time I've written her, but she's kinda coming in outta nowhere? That's because at this point, as should be obvious, she's got pretty much no connection to the main group, so writing her POV chapter was gonna come outta nowhere kinda no matter what.
> 
> So! That's the fic established. I've got the baseline ready for all the characters. Next chapter we should get to see our characters eat and start - *the plot.*
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	8. Time Is Not A Toy

Max watched the Sorting mostly in silence.

Whenever she sat next to Brooke during a sorting, the brunette would make little comments about the kid coming up to be sorted next - sometimes she would even predict what house they were about to be sorted into by expression and walk alone. She was almost always right in these predictions.

But instead, Max was sitting next to Kate. Brooke was on Kate’s other side, rolling her nails against the table. Kate would clap along whenever someone was sorted into Hufflepuff. And Max was dreadfully bored.

Her hand came to rest on the outside of her pocket again.

  
Hoida’s letter weighed heavily on her mind.

She glanced at Kate - who was paying close attention to the Sorting.

One more re-read couldn’t hurt.

She gently pulled the letter out of her pocket, and opened it under the table.

_ Dear Max, _

_ Hello! I hope you’re having a great Summer so far. I hope the owl didn’t scare your parents - I understand that muggles can have a fear of owls, for some reason. But worry not - Stephanie is perfectly kind, and doesn’t bite. Isn’t she a sweetheart? _

_ I saw your test results from last year - they were wonderful! I’m very proud of you. You’ve always been wonderful at Transfiguration, but I was a bit worried about your Charms grade - but you really pulled through with the written work! Perhaps you should talk to Ms. Grant about some tutoring for your practical work? _

_ But I wanted to talk about that discussion we had about electives. I told you last year that you weren’t allowed to take every elective, but… that’s not quite true. _

_ Now, Max, I need you to understand that this is very much in the preliminary stages at the moment. But maybe by the beginning of the school year, we could get you something called a time turner. _

_ It allows the student to rewind time. _

_ Now, of course, you’d have to use it strictly for schoolwork purposes only. And it has some very strict guidelines - I’ve attached a pamphlet to this letter that I expect you to have MEMORIZED. It is very foolish to play with time, Max, and you could get yourself and others hurt doing so. I’m trusting you with a very big responsibility even telling you that this is an option - and you couldn’t tell any of your schoolmates about it, either. This is top secret Department of Mysteries technology, and really, if you ask me - they’re probably only letting students use them in the first place as sneaky test subjects. But there have been no reported injuries, malfunctions or casualties so far. As long as you follow the rules, it should be perfectly safe. _

_ I’ve attached a form for your parents to sign, and a blood quill to sign it with. Don’t worry about the blood quill - it’s less ominous than the name would suggest. _

_ I hope to hear back from you soon - and have a great (and safe) rest of your Summer! _

_ Sincerely, _

_ -Totally your favorite professor (of Transfiguration) Ms. Hoida _

Some lines still made her smile, a little. Max really liked Ms. Hoida - she was a really wonderful teacher.

But the idea of literal  _ time travel _ kind of made her stomach squirm.

She folded the letter up again and tucked it into her robes.

“Max?”

She glanced to her left - Kate was giving her a concerned glance.

“How’s my bestie doing over here, huh?” Kate tried, giving her a smile that was shockingly genuine, considering the concern wavering at the corners.

Max smiled back. “Fine, Kate. Just thinking about some schoolwork I didn’t finish over the Summer.”

“I can stay up and help you finish it!” Kate offered instantly, nudging Brooke as she did - Brooke turned to glance at her, eyes focusing again for the first time since the sorting started. “Brooke’ll help - right, Brooke?”

Brooke adjusted her glasses. “Of course. You’re not going to flunk out on my watch.”

Max smiled a little wider at them. “Thanks, guys. But I think I’ve gotta finish this one on my own.”

Kate looked like she was going to protest - but Brooke leaped in to unwittingly save her.

“Well, the Sorting is nearly complete. After the Headmaster makes his start-of-term announcements, we’ll be able to start eating.”

Max lazily snapped her fingers into finger guns at her.

Brooke gave her a sharp snap back.

The second Kate and Brooke turned back to the Sorting, Max propped her head against her hand.

The candlelight glinted off her plate.

**_“SLYTHERIN!”_ **

A tiny body rushed off to the Slytherin table among polite clapping, and Hoida picked up the Sorting hat and walked out of the hall through a side door while the Headmaster, Mr. Wells, stood.

He offered them a tight smile.

“Welcome back, students. We hope you have a wonderful year at Hogwarts. I have some start-of-term announcements to make.

“Firstly, our caretaker, Mr. Taylor, has put a…  _ bounty _ on an animal roaming the halls. Apparently a cat has been scaring his pet squirrels. Please keep a look out for it - it is thin and black, with white paws.

“Secondly - I am afraid that Ms. Rakepick has been terminated from her position as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. In her place, I have hired renowned duelist, Mark Jefferson.”

Wells gestured to his right - and a man with clean-cut black hair and smooth, pale skin waved at them with an easy smile.

“We hope you give him a warm Hogwarts welcome,” Wells said, with a stern look. “Now - without further adieu - let’s eat.”

He clapped his hands once - and food appeared on the tables.

“Show-off,” Brooke said. Max repressed a snort.

Kate, instantly, delved for the fried chicken. Brooke glanced around - and latched onto the bowl of peppermint toads.

Max wasn’t very hungry.

“Oh, yes,” Brooke said - and swallowed a mouthful of squirming peppermint. “I wanted to tell you both - I’ve been looking for the kitchens in my spare time. I think they’re very close to the Hufflepuff dorms, if I’ve been keeping an accurate mental map - there’s an incredibly large space there that I’ve never seen any doorways for. If we can find the secret entrance - likely a painting - then the House Elves would probably be more than happy to supply us with spare food whenever we need it for late-night studying.” Brooke paused. “Or coffee. Probably coffee.”

Kate smiled at her. “That’s amazing, Brooke! It never would’ve occurred to me to try and look for unused spaces in the castle - though, now that I say that, it seems kinda obvious.”

Brooke’s expression faltered, for a moment. “It’s really not amazing. Just common sense.”

“Oh, shush,” Kate said. “You’re great, Brooke. You should really give yourself more credit.”

Brooke just barely smiled.

Max turned away, so that neither of them could see the wide, teasing grin on her face. She was going to hold this crush over Brooke for  _ ages _ after her and Kate got together.

“Excuse me?”

Max startled - and glanced behind her.

Ms. Hoida was standing over them, and smiling.

“I’m very sorry for bothering you all,” she said - Brooke was eyeing her up in a way that practically  _ screamed _ ‘suspicious’. “But could I borrow Max for a moment?”

A steel ball dropped into Max’s stomach.

“Not to be rude, professor,” Brooke said, raising an eyebrow at her. “But can’t this wait until we’re done eating?”

“I’m afraid not, Ms. Scott. We have to talk about this before classes. ...She’s not in trouble,” Hoida added, when the suspicion on Brooke’s face didn’t ease.

“It’s okay, Brooke,” Max said, offering her the fakest smile she could. “We’ll talk later? I’m not hungry anyway.”

Brooke eyed her up, for a moment.

“...I’ll save you a peppermint toad. They’re your favorite, right?”

Max smiled. It was real this time - though the heavy weight in her stomach didn’t ease. “Yeah. Thanks, Brooke.”

Brooke shot her a pair of lazy finger guns.

Hoida stepped back, and gestured down the aisle. “After you.”

Max shuffled past her - and tried to ignore the pit in her stomach.

* * *

“You’ve memorized the pamphlet I gave you?”

Max nodded.

“...Max, I’m trusting you with a very big responsibility here.”

Max nodded again.

“...What is the most important thing about time travel?”

“Never let your past self see you,” Max recited.

“What are you allowed to change?”

“Nothing.”

“If the turner is broken, damaged or malfunctioning-”

“Bring it straight to you.”

Hoida smiled at her, and raised an eyebrow. “What have we said about interrupting?”

Max blushed. “...Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Max, I  _ need _ you to understand -  _ time is not a toy.” _

Max nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Say it back to me, Max.”

“Time is not a toy.”

“Again.”

“Time is not a toy.”

“Again.”

“Time is  _ not _ a toy.”

Hoida smiled. “Good. Now… I expect you to go to Ms. Grant about that private tutoring.”

Max nodded.

  
“The teachers have been informed of the time turner. They will help you avoid yourself, if needed.”

Max nodded. Her neck was starting to hurt from all the nodding.

“...Okay.”

Hoida reached into a drawer in her desk - and pulled out a flat, black box.

She lifted the lid.

The turner was pressed into a pad of dark red satin. The chain looked like pure gold - the links were thin and spindly. And, on the end, sat a small ring with two small bars, holding a rotatable hourglass.

“Every turn of the hourglass should bring you back one hour. You should never turn it more than four times a day - even that is stretching it a little. Remember, you’re still  _ aging _ during extra hours - not in a  _ legal _ sense, mind you, but adding four hours to every day will make every six days seem like a week. You still need to keep a consistent, healthy sleep schedule - and this device does  _ not _ mean you can spend extra time goofing off, Max. I expect you to spend the vast majority of your time, especially on school days, studying. And you should of course avoid using the turner at all, if possible.”

Max stared at the time turner.

Her stomach turned.

It looked so… unassuming. A piece of jewelry like any other. Maybe a little odd, but nothing to give more than a second glance.

The idea that this little necklace could  _ manipulate time… _

It was almost unbelievable.

She reached forward, and gently lifted the turner out of the satin. She handled it like an antique - for all intents and purposes, it  _ was _ one.

Plus, she had no idea what might happen if she dropped it and it shattered on the floor.

“The turner shouldn’t be damaged,” Hoida said, like she was reading Max’s mind. “It’s got protective and durability charms galore. And I don’t want you showing that off to your friends, Max - even if you don’t tell them what it does. I want you to wear it under your clothes  _ at all times. _ It should never be off your person. Understand?”

Max nodded weakly, eyes still latched onto the turner.

Suddenly - Hoida smiled.

“Well? Let’s see how it looks on you.”

Max blinked, and glanced at her.

“What? I’m curious!” Hoida said defensively, a smile still on her face. “It’s the last time I should ever see it overtop of your uniform instead of under it. Put the bad boy on!”

Max - gingerly - slipped it on.

It rested overtop her tie.

It looked… pretty good, all things considered. The red a nice contrast against the gold.

“Looking good, sister,” Hoida said, giving her a finger gun.

Max smiled.

“But seriously, be careful, Max. This thing is dangerous. I’m trusting you not to do anything stupid with it.”

Max nodded, serious and determined.

“I promise, Professor. I won’t do anything stupid. I won’t let my past self see my future self. And I won’t change a single thing.”

Hoida smiled, and nodded back. “Good girl. Now - get to your dorms, hm? If anyone asks, I was… I dunno… talking about some homework you didn’t finish.”

Max nodded for what must’ve been the thousandth time.

_ Time is not a toy. _

The phrase bounced around in her head the whole way to the Gryffindor dorms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot plot plot. We finally have a plot.
> 
> Well, kinda. The setup for a plot, anyway.
> 
> Max, with time powers? What could go wrong!
> 
> Mark Jefferson as a wizard, and a teacher, and a duelist? What could go wrong!!!!
> 
> Yeah, that's right, I gave Brooke my peppermint love/borderline fetish. And you can't stop me.
> 
> And Samuel is in this fic??? What????
> 
> (And maybe the title isn't just Black Cats because it's a classic witchy image??????)
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	9. My Gaydar Is Going Off The Charts

“Oh. Yo, Max. What’s up?”

Max blinked.

Brooke, Kate, Rachel and Chloe were all sitting in a circle on the floor, next to the fire. They’d shifted some armchairs out of their way to do this, and they were sitting around what looked like a ritual circle.

“Max,” Brooke said, gesturing her over. “Come on. I saved you that peppermint toad.”

Despite the confusion stirring in her gut - replacing the burning weight of the hourglass resting against her chest - Max smiled.

She stepped over, and sat down next to Brooke, closing the circle in the process. In front of all of them was a chalk circle - they had moved the carpet out of the way to draw it. There were candles placed all around it, and a smiley face drawn in the center.

Max stared.

Brooke - gingerly - offered her a peppermint toad. She took it and popped it into her mouth.

“...What ish thish?” she said through a mouthful of peppermint.

“Kate wanted to do a blood ritual to make us all ‘besties for life’ after I explained the concept of blood rituals to her,” Brooke recited, voice long-suffering. “I have literally no idea what might happen after I do the incantation - Kate wrote a haiku for it. I explained that haikus have magical power and can be used as incantations. So, want to tempt Death?”

Max smiled. “That would actually be great.”

“Alright. Everyone, get out your wands, point them at your palms,” Brooke said, taking out her own. It glinted in the light - a rosy light brown colour. Hazel wood, Brooke had once mentioned in passing, even though talking about what type of wand you had was kind of a faux pas among purebloods. It was shorter than a foot - unlike Chloe’s wand, which was just as tall and springy as she was. The thing Max found most noteworthy about Brooke’s wand, though, was the flexibility - or rather, the lack thereof. Her wand was stiff as a board. Stiffer, even.

Max pulled out her own wand. It was a much lighter shade then Brooke’s - and, surprisingly enough, a bit longer too. Generally, Max thought her own wand looked quite standard, but Brooke argued that actually having a shade of wood so light was rather unique. The only lighter shade she’d ever seen was in a few birch wands, and a single wand that had been made from  _ ivory, _ of all things - wands like that were usually status symbols, not really the most fitting and useful wand that person could own. Just the flashiest.

Everyone else pulled out their wands, and pointed them at their palms.

“Alright, now, the spell to cut something is  _ diffindo. _ Don’t put too much emotion behind it - just a little should be enough to break the skin, and we don’t want to lose any hands, even if the nurse could re-attach them.”

Max gently pressed her wand to her palm - and murmured,

_ “Diffindo.” _

A little slash grew on her hand. It tingled, for a moment - and then the dull heat of pain began to spread across her hand.

A single droplet of blood spilled from it.

She did the same for the other palm.

“Now, everyone link hands,” Brooke said, holding a hand out. Max took a moment to wonder if she had inadvertently ruined Brooke’s plan to hold Kate’s hand by sitting between them.

Brooke’s hand was as spindly as ever. She was careful not to squeeze too hard - it felt like Brooke’s hand might shatter if she did.

The pain in her hand went just that little bit thornier when her wound met the warmth of Brooke’s blood. She couldn’t help but notice just how cold the rest of Brooke’s hand was.

Kate grabbed her other hand, and the same little thorns of heat spread to the tips of her fingers on that side, too.

“Now…”

Brooke stared at the center of the circle of chalk.

_ “Friendship eternal, _

_ We owe thee so much, for this _

_ Loneliness vanished.” _

For a moment - a small, short, very fragile moment - it seemed like the flames of the candles flared brightly, and the chalk seemed to float slightly.

And then the moment passed. As all moments do. And it was just a circle of friends, bleeding on each other.

“...Well, I don’t know healing spells,” Brooke said, letting go of Rachel and Max’s hands. “Do any of you?”

There was a chorus of ‘no’s.

“Not even you, Rachel?”

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “I can’t know everything. I’m already such a genius, there’s simply not enough space even in this massive brain f-”

“Yes, you’re hilarious, but really.”

“I’m dead serious,” Rachel said, with a perfect deadpan.

Brooke sighed. “Fine. Chloe?”

Chloe shrugged. “Nope.”

“You’re all useless.”

“Max and I have got a first aid kit!” Kate said, standing up rapidly. “It’s got some gauze! I’ll go get that - we can heal up the non-magic way!”

Brooke nodded. “Wonderful. Thank you, Kate.”

Kate smiled at her. Max couldn’t help but notice how it made Brooke’s cheeks go a little pink.

The moment Kate was gone, a heavy silence fell over them.

A pause.

“...I’m gonna go help her look,” Max offered, shuffling to her feet.

She walked around all of them - and glanced to the side as she reached the stairs.

Chloe was staring at her.

Max paused.

The former blonde, for a moment, looked like a rat who'd been caught in the cabinet - but then, she gave Max an easy grin.

Max smiled back.

She started up the stairs.

* * *

When she entered her dorm room, she found Kate sitting at the foot of her bed, trunk wide open and a few books set aside.

“Hey Max!” Kate said, reaching into her trunk. “Hope you don’t mind that I’m going through your trunk - you brought the first aid kit, right?”

“Yep. It’s… uh… at the bottom, though. I packed it first…” Max hit herself in the forehead. “God, I’m dumb.”

“No! No, you aren’t!” Kate said without hesitation, standing up and walking over to her so she could put a hand on her shoulder. “All my friends are smarties. Especially you, Max.”

Max snorted. “I… thanks, Kate.”

Kate smiled at her - and went back to rifling through her trunk.

“...Uh… oh! It’s right here!”

Kate stood up, and took a transparent case with an obvious red cross printed on it.

“Awesome!” Kate chirped. “Let’s go back to the besties!”

“...You do know you can’t have more than  _ one _ bestie, right?”

Kate waved her off with a grin. “Nonsense. You’re all my besties! But… just between us, Max…”

She gave Max a wide, sincere smile. “You’re my  _ best _ bestie.”

A very full, fluffy warmth spread through her stomach. “Thanks, Kate. You’re…”

“Chloe’s  _ your _ best bestie,” Kate said easily, sounding completely sure of - and okay with - this fact.

“I’m sorry, Kate,” Max muttered, kinda feeling like a jackass.

“It’s alright! There’s no need for you to apologize. You and Chloe have been friends for like - forever. She’s got a big head start! I just wanted you to know that I really care about you, Max. And so does Brooke - even if she’s a little less open about saying it.”

Max smiled - because  _ that _ was something she could reciprocate. “Thanks, Kate. I really care about you guys, too.”

Kate smiled at her. 

There was a moment of easy, full silence.

“...Well, we better get this gauze back. Those cuts won’t bandage themselves, after all!” Kate chirped, walking past her.

Max followed her, barely pushing down the big, goofy smile tugging at her lips.

* * *

A minute or two later, Kate was wrapping gauze around her hand.

Max glanced down - and couldn’t help but notice that Kate’s arms were a little more tan than usual.

“Did you get a tan?”

She saw Brooke glance up sharply in her peripherals.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I just spent a lotta time outside,” Kate said, tongue between her teeth as she gingerly, but efficiently, spun the gauze around her palm.

She moved to her other hand. Apparently very little gauze was needed for just a plain cut.

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” Max said, offering a smile. “Looking good, sis.”

Kate offered her a wink and a smile before focusing on her wound again.

“...Alright, that should be good. It doesn’t feel too tight, right? Thin gauze like this is wound too tight a lot.”

Max shook her head, inspecting her hands. “It feels fine. You did great, Kate.”

Kate gave her one last smile - and moved on to Brooke.

Max couldn’t help but let her eyes trail over to them. Brooke, very quickly, turned a light shade of pink with Kate delicately holding her wrist.

After a moment, she murmured something under her breath that Max couldn’t hear. It made Kate smile, though, and glance up to murmur something back.

Max actually  _ saw _ Brooke’s breath hitch when Kate made eye contact.

_ “Man, _ they’re obvious.”

Max startled, a little, and glanced to her left - where Chloe had scooched up next to her.

“Oh. Chloe. You startled me.”

Chloe shrugged - and gestured to Brooke and Kate.

“They’re super gay for each other, right? Or am I just seeing things.”

Max blinked. “I… don’t know what’s going on with Kate. She cares about Brooke, and it seems like a really close bond for just a friendship, but there’s… nothing obviously romantic.”

“Mm. Hard disagree. My gaydar is going  _ off the charts _ with this one.”

Max snorted. “Why don’t you direct that one at yourself, miss blue-haired emo now?”

Chloe snorted right back. “Oh, I don’t have to test for myself. I’m gay as shit.”

Max blinked.

“...You are?”

Chloe’s eyebrows rose. “You didn’t  _ know? _ Gurl, my crush on Rachel is like, half as obvious as Brooke’s on Kate. Which means it’s pretty damn obvious.”

“I just…”

Max’s hand gripped at the bottom of her uniform.

“Never had you pegged as a lesbian, I guess…”

“Well - re-peg me then, Mad Max. What about you?”

Max jumped, a hand darting to her chest. “M _ -me?” _

“Yeah. Like, are you gay? I’ve never seen you show any interest in guys…”

“Wh- no! I’m… not gay.”

Chloe glanced at her, eyebrows raising again. “...Oooookay…? No need to be defensive about it, geez. Just curious.”

“I just… I was startled,” Max muttered, looking down at her feet.

“Right. Well, uh - I wanted to check in on you. I noticed Hoida pulled you away in the middle of supper.”

“Oh. Right,” Max murmured, eyes still firmly at her feet. “She - uh - just had to talk to me about some homework I hadn’t finished.”

Chloe nodded, and gave her a soft, sincere look. “Cool. Just making sure. ...Are you alright, Max?”

Max blinked. “What?”

“Like, are you okay? You didn’t talk to me much during the Summer, and you seemed kinda distracted on the train.” Chloe tried for a grin. “Need me to kick someone’s ass?”

Max snorted.

Suddenly, the weight of the time turner seemed to burn against her chest again.

“No thanks, Chloe. No need for that. I just… have a lot of stuff on my mind.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow.

And then, suddenly, shifted, so she was sitting criss-cross applesauce. Max still couldn’t help but think of it as ‘criss-cross applesauce,’ after Kindergarten had scarred her forever.

“Well? Spill, gurl. It’s clearly weighing’ heavily on ya. I can help you out!”

Max smiled. It was even genuine.

  
“Thanks, Chloe, but… this one is something I’ve gotta deal with on my own.”

Chloe blinked.

  
And deflated, a little.

After a long moment, she reached over - and put a hand on Max’s shoulder.

Her stomach twisted oddly.

“Well - just know that you can talk to me, okay?” Chloe offered her a fist bump. “My first mate for life.”

Max snorted, trying very hard to not think about the odd feeling in her stomach. She bumped Chloe’s fist. “Pirates forever.”

“Done!” Kate chirped, pulling away from Rachel. “Get over here, Chlo! Let’s get you fixed up!”

Chloe offered her one last smile, and shuffled over to get wrapped up.

Max’s hand came to rest on her chest, feeling tighter than usual. It had nothing to do with the time turner this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, finally, some proper romance in one of the ships I've actually tagged.
> 
> This was pretty much just a 'look at how good of friends they are and also gaaaaay' chapter. I had a lot of fun writing it, but it's pretty much just to establish this friendship a bit more and to start off the ship.
> 
> (And that ritual *totally* isn't going to come back into focus later ._.)
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	10. An Unkindness

Max woke up to Kate shaking her excitedly.

“Max! Max, come on! It’s the first day of school!”

She groaned, and burrowed her head in her pillows. “Five more min-”

“Never! The early bird catches the worm, Max!”

“It’s no use trying to resist,” she heard Brooke say in the close distance, sounding just as groggy as her. “She’s shockingly stubborn. You didn’t do this in third year, Kate.”

“I didn’t fall asleep in this dorm in third year! Come on, Max, get up!” Kate said again, shaking her.

She accepted that sleep was outside her grasp by now, and sat up.

Her head spun for a moment. She rushed to make sure that her time turner was still there, and out of sight.

It was.

A headache pounded in the back of her skull.

...Right. She shouldn’t’ve been hitting the anxiety right before bed.

“I feel your pain,” she heard Brooke say. “I’ll let you get the first pick from the sausages.”

“How about I get first cup of cof-”

“Nope.”

Max snorted reluctantly. “Alright. Okay, I’m up. Let’s go.”

She stumbled out of bed, and reached blindly for her trunk.

Kate reached out and steadied her, while Brooke handed her a white button-up shirt.

She smiled. “Thanks, guys.”

“Don’t mention it!” Kate chirped. “Anything for my bestie!”

“How about you let me sleep in next time?” Max muttered, slipping the shirt on. Brooke handed her a pair of pants before she could button it up.

“Nope!” Kate said with a grin. Max groaned.

“...Did you wake up Chloe, too?”

“She tried,” Brooke said - and suddenly, the grogginess faded from her face for the first time as she grinned from ear to ear. “It was amazing.”

Max blinked. “What happened?”

“Uh… well, turns out Rachel needs her beauty sleep,” Kate muttered. “Brooke undid the antlers, though! It was really amazing - I didn’t even know that curse had a counter!”

Max couldn’t help but grin. “Rachel gave you  _ antlers?” _

“Among other things.”

Max glanced up.

The humour had faded from Brooke’s voice shockingly quickly - and, instead, something sharp and dangerous glittered in her eye.

“We’ll have to get them back, of course. This slight cannot go unpunished.”

Max sighed.

“...That would start a war, you know.”

“Yes,” Brooke said, eyes glittering brighter. “I know.”

Kate, suddenly, grinned, rocking back and forth a little. “Ooh! Are we gonna start a prank war? I’ve always wanted to be a part of one of those!”

“You’ll be my commander in chief. I’ll be your one-man army. You make the plans, I cast the spells.”

Max blinked. “You know what a commander in chief is?”

“Of course,” Brooke said. “I’ve been a better Muggle Studies teacher than the hack they hired since I was seven years old.”

“Anyway! We have to go get our schedules!” Kate chirped. “Max, are you dressed yet?”

Max glanced down at herself. “...I need my blazer.”

Brooke stepped behind her, and slipped a blazer over her shoulders.

She smiled - and tried very hard to ignore the way Brooke’s fingers lingered slightly at the base of her neck.

“And your tie,” Brooke said, stepping back in front of her. “I don’t know where that is.”

“...Uhm… oh, right,” she muttered, reaching for the edge of her nightstand and getting her tie. She’d tossed it there last night.

It was still tied. She just slipped it over her head, tightened it, and buttoned her collar.

“What about showering?”

“You can shower after we get our schedules and breakfast!” Kate said, clearly ready for this argument. 

Max walked to the door. Her headache pulsed hotly with every step. By the end, though, she was managing to stand without rocking back and forth.

Then came the stairs.

She sighed.

* * *

By the time they made it to the table - Gryffindor, this time - Max was cradling her head. Kate was still clearly distracted by the promise of their schedules, but Brooke was starting to peer at her, eyes softer and more concerned than usual.

“Max? Are you alright?”

“Fine,” she muttered, sitting down. “Where’s the sausage?”

Brooke, silently, leaned over and held the end of a fork in front of her. A slice of sausage was speared on it.

Max leaned over and, delicately, took it off with her teeth. The odd, salty, savoury flavour seemed to flood her mouth.

She swallowed it after just a single chew. It bit at her throat as it went down.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite cross-house brigade,” she heard - and was met with one of Hoida’s trademark soft smiles when she glanced up.

“I prefer ‘squad’!” Kate chirped, grinning right back at the professor.

“Gaggle,” Max offered, leaning over to get a biscuit and trying to ignore the pulsing in her skull.

“Unkindness.”

Max blinked.

When she glanced up, Kate and Hoida were already staring at Brooke.

“...A group of ravens,” the Ravenclaw clarified, giving Hoida in particular an unimpressed look.

“Oh,” Kate and Max said at the same time.

“It’s also called a conspiracy. Way better than a ‘murder,’ if you ask me.”

“Isn’t that also the name of a band?” Kate added. “An Unkindness?”

Max blinked. “What?”

“Yeah! They published an album just this year, I think - their music video for ‘Anything’ was really good!”

“Never heard of them,” Brooke said. “What are they, a folk group or something?”

“Indie rock.”

Max blinked, and threw up her eyebrows. “You listen to rock music?”

“Oh, yeah!” Kate chirped, grinning at her. Hoida was standing off to the side, silently watching them talk with that soft, sincere smile still on her face. “It’s really good! Like, uh - Green Day, Ruel, Rush, Boston, Judas Priest - oh, have you ever heard their song, ‘Painkiller’? It totally rocks!”

“I never had you pegged for a… heavy metal kinda gal,” Max said, leaning forward. Her headache was starting to subside a little.

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about heavy metal! Were we talking about heavy metal? I started with Iron Maiden after Chloe suggested it to me and totally went down the rabbithole from there - oh, shit, have I shown you guys my Lamb of God shirt-?”

“Not to interrupt,” Hoida said - Max was still reeling from the impact of Kate using a swear word, and Brooke was practically drooling. “But I have some schedules to give you?”

“Oh. Oh! Right!” Max took a moment to wonder how Kate could whiplash so quickly from being excited about music, to deflating after being interrupted, to being excited about  _ school. _ “Yeah, do you have them?”

Hoida, with excessive quantities of gravitas, whipped out three schedules. “Boom. You  _ know _ I do, gurl.”

Kate grinned. “You’re the best, Ms. Hoida.”

“You bet your Hufflepuff butt I am,” Hoida said, mirroring Kate’s grin. “You guys are lucky you always get up so early, or else I might have to get you all sitting at your own tables. I don’t have the time to search for the Ravenclaw in a group of Gryffindors.”

“It’s like Where’s Waldo!” Kate chirped.

“What is that,” Brooke said with a flat look, finally managing to stop giving her mushy eyes.

“It’s a comic! You look for this guy in a striped sweater in the middle of a drawing, in a massive group of other people.”

“...Sounds like a terrifying existence,” Brooke said, staring right through her plate. “Having beings a thousand times larger than you constantly searching for you within a crowd, while you can’t do anything but hide and pray.”

“...I just thought it was fun, actually,” Kate said. Her voice had a note that said her childhood had been changed forever by Brooke’s statement.

Hoida put a schedule in front of each of them, clearly tired of waiting for them to grab them from her.

“Enjoy your breakfast, girls!” Hoida said easily, walking away.

“You too, Ms. Hoida!” Kate called after her.

Max stared at her schedule.

“Well, I suppose Herbology is a decent class to have first thing in the morning,” Brooke said, shifting her schedule a little. “I’ve even got it with you, Max. And then I get a free block. How’s your morning looking, Katherine?”

“I get to do Care of Magical Creatures first!” Kate chirped - and then, suddenly, deflated a little. “With the Slytherins…”

“Oh, come on. Chin up now. I’m sure they aren’t that awful,” Brooke said, uncharacteristically optimistic.

“One of them threw a rotten tomato at my head in first year,” Kate said, eyes firmly on her plate. “...I just hope they don’t hurt animals.”

“Where did they even get a rotten tomato?” Max said. “The house elves don’t use any rotten ingredients.”

“...Actually, that’s a valid question,” Brooke said, leaning back in her chair. “Perhaps they knew where the kitchens were and asked for one? If so, I must start doing some interrogations-”

“Can we please stop talking about this?” Kate said morosely.

“Of course,” Max said, leaning over to give her a sympathetic pat on the head. Kate smiled softly at the display.

“What does your schedule look like, Max?” Brooke said. Luckily, she didn’t lean over to see for herself.

“Uh…”

Cramped, is what it was.

Max had a total of two free blocks all week. Considering the six she had had last year, that was quite awful. She knew that doing a proper amount of studying often took a lot of free blocks - but she had guessed that she would have to use the turner to redo free blocks for studying. She also knew that her weekend was going to be cramped with work.

  
What she hadn’t expected - especially considering that she was only taking four of the five electives - was just how often she would have to use the time turner just to attend all of her assigned classes. She had to do three extra hours a week just to attend classes.

Three hours a week… that meant that she would have 171 hours for every 168 she would’ve had without the turner. It meant twelve extra hours a month. It meant that, practically, every two months would have an extra day attached. Which meant she aged six extra days a year.  _ Just to attend her classes. _

And that was assuming she would only have this schedule this year. If she did what she wanted to, and attended those extra classes next year too…

And next year was OWL year. The year they took their big tests to decide which subjects they could keep. It meant more classes. It meant more studying. It meant more hours.

And then, if she  _ passed _ all those OWLs - like she  _ wanted _ to - she had to have another two years of that schedule. Another two years of an extra day tacked onto every two months. Another two years of what should’ve been impossible hours.

Taking a conservative estimate and guessing that, balancing out for the years she would have to overuse the turner slightly for studying and tests, she would use the turner… three times a day? Add three hours to every day, five days a week. That meant sixty extra hours every two weeks. That meant every month had an extra 120 hours - or extra five days. Which meant that every twelve months had an extra sixty days.

Every year she used this thing would take two months from her life.

And that was a  _ conservative _ estimate.

...At least she’d hit growth spurt sooner.

Should she account for that for her birthday? Should every birthday party be meaningless from now on, because it hadn’t actually been a year?

Her life for the next three years had been irreversibly crippled. And sure, it meant she would have a ridiculously good resume and learn so much, but…

Was it really worth it?

“...I’ve got my first Arithmancy class at eleven,” Max said. “They really shouldn’t make you do math before two PM, if you ask me.”

They discussed schedules throughout the rest of breakfast, until Kate finally let Max go to take her shower.

Max - as per Hoida’s demands - wore her time turner when she took said shower.

It’s gentle weight would never leave her for the next eight months.

She felt sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Tags ships  
> Also me: Includes hints of literally every other ship
> 
> An Unkindness is an actual indie band. I quite like them. They've got three albums - one of which, 'ten years', is actually quite good. Especially the last three songs. Oh, and 'the prophet'. That one totally slaps.
> 
> Has anyone else ever thought about how terrifying it must be to be Waldo? Because I have. A lot.
> 
> And Kate and Chloe are totally secret besties. They bonded over indie rock bands.
> 
> Next time should be classes, and maybe a Kate POV. Who knows. Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	11. Five Points to Slytherin

“Are you nearly done in there, Max?”

Max opened the bathroom door, clad in nothing but a towel. And sure, Brooke had an incredibly massive crush on Kate, but… Max was no slouch in the beauty department herself.

With those freckles that cascaded down her back, soft, thin lips that were practically  _ begging _ to be nipped, and - most of all - that pale, fragile neck that Brooke, occasionally, couldn’t help but yearn to lick-

_ Well, it seems my problem is obvious. I’m such a massive gay that I’m attracted to every woman I see that isn’t undeniably ugly. _

To be fair, she wasn’t attracted to Rachel at all. Rachel was like her older sister. Besides, she felt no attraction to  _ perfect _ women, like Rachel. Rachel didn’t have a single blemish on her face, or a scar on her skin, or a single tooth that wasn’t pearly white. No, Brooke wasn’t attracted to perfection.

It was the imperfections in women that she couldn’t help but love. Max’s thin, bony neck and freckles. The heavy bags under Kate’s eyes or the way only one of her cheeks dimpled when she smiled. Or just -  _ everything _ about Chloe.

  
Really, she wasn’t sure why she wasn’t incredibly attracted to Chloe above anyone else. Especially with the blue hair. She was exactly Brooke’s type.

...Well. Who cared.

Point was, Max was cute as fuck.

And she had just come out of the bathroom with just a towel on.

Brooke turned sharply on her heel, and silently walked out of the dorm.

The second the door was closed, she let out a heavy breath.

“...One of you guys is going to be the  _ death of me, _ I swear to Merlin,” she muttered, sticking her hands in her blazer pockets.

“Hey Brooke!”

She barely stopped herself from jumping three feet in the air.

“Katherine,” she said, adjusting her glasses slightly. She noticed Kate’s eyes latch onto the movement. “What is it?”

“I just wanted to talk to Max! Is she in?”

Brooke smiled a little at Kate treating her like Max’s secretary.

_ Well, I certainly wouldn’t turn down such a position. Max being my boss? Count me in. She’d be the most lenient boss ever. _

_ And we could fuck on her desk. _

“Yes, but she’s not… decent,” Brooke said, pushing the thoughts far,  _ far _ into the back of her head. 

“Oh, come on! We’re friends! I’m sure she doesn’t mind,” Kate said, shouldering past her.

Brooke sighed.

_ I just want to go to herbology class. Is that so much to ask? _

“Alright,” she said, following Kate in.

Luckily, Max was in some clothes by now. She was just buttoning up her blazer.

“Hey guys,” she muttered, tongue between her teeth. 

“You know you don’t need to button that up, right?” Brooke said, for lack of anything better.

“You button it up, too.”

“Point.”

Max leaned over and picked up her bag.

Brooke eyed her up.

There were bags under her eyes. Nearly as deep as Kate’s, and twice as dark. They looked more like eyeshadow than anything else. Her bag looked a lot more stuffed than usual, too - though Brooke supposed she had a lot of catching up to do, taking that arithmancy class.

“You look… interesting,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

Max blinked. “What? Is - did I mess something up? Is it my hair? I got some muggle conditioner, that stuff in the showers is  _ weird.” _

Brooke glanced up.

“Your hair’s… fine.”

Max blinked again. “Really? Then what is it?”

“You just… look like you didn’t get much sleep.”

“Kate woke me up,” Max said, throwing her bag over her shoulder. “Remember?”

“It’s not just that,” Brooke said. Because it wasn’t. “You’re not dying, right?”

“What? Of course not.”

Kate shrugged. “She looks great as usual to me!”

Max smiled. “Thanks, Kate.”

“Right. Well, let’s get to herbology, Max,” Brooke said, opening the door for her. She didn’t have the energy to dig deeper on this. Max would talk when she was ready - if there was anything to even talk about.

“Let’s.”

* * *

The Hogwarts grounds were beautiful.

Even with the weight of her first class being with  _ Slytherins _ weighing on her mind, Kate still couldn’t help but love the sunshine. Rays glinted through the foliage of the Whomping Willow, and shadows were few and far between.

She saw the pumpkin patch in the distance. The class was supposed to be right next to it - and, indeed, a few students were already milling there.

  
No teacher, though. Weird.

She searched for someone nice in the crowd - but there were only one or two other Hufflepuffs, and none of them were people she knew.

She sighed, and sat down on the grass, as far away from the class as possible.

The world rolled by.

As time passed, more students joined the bustling crowd. They came in small groups, more often than not. None of them were students Kate knew. She’d nearly forgotten how lonely things had been, before Max. Before Brooke. Before her besties.

She glanced to the left - and noticed a bee on a flower.

“Aww,” she whispered - and leaned over, putting her finger next to the small creature.

After a long moment, it crawled onto her finger.

Kate scarcely dared to breath.

It’s wide eyes stared into the grass.

It shifted a little - and flew away sedately.

She sighed again, and stood up.

“I’m here! I’m here!”

Kate glanced to the side.

A tall, spindly man was stumbling across the field. He had a massive crate in his hands - Kate was honestly shocked he was strong enough to even hold it. It was about as tall as his torso, and more than twice as wide. He had pale, waxy skin that clung to his bones, and a sharp jawline that ended in a patch of wiry stubble.

Kate blinked.

That… wasn’t the teacher from last year.

“I’m not late! Oh, boy, that crate was  _ heavy!” _

He smiled at all of them, weak and wavering.

“Hello!”

After a moment, a weak chorus of voices - mostly Hufflepuffs - gave him a ‘hello’ back.

“Alright, well!” he said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them. The excitement on his face did not mix well with the traces of exhaustion - and the sunlight on his skin made him seem even more pale than he had rushing over. He almost looked skeletal. “Welcome to Care of Magical Creatures class!”

He leaned against the crate. Kate couldn’t help but strain her ears, and notice that what sounded like  _ scuttling _ noises were coming from the box.

“My name is Perry Jackson!” he said, dusting off his jeans. He was the only teacher Kate had ever seen outside of uniform - and he was barefoot. “I just know we’re going to have a great year together! Now,”

He straightened. Kate noticed that a few students were subtly backing away from the crate - which was starting to move slightly.

“Can anyone tell me what the purpose of Care of Magical Creatures class is?”

Nobody raised their hand.

“...Well, come on! There are no wrong answers!”

After a long, long moment - Kate raised her hand.

“Ah, yes! You there, in the back!”

“To… learn how to properly care for magical creatures?” Kate offered, feeling like this answer was a  _ little _ too obvious.

Mr. Jackson laughed easily.

“Yes, that’s right! No need to sound so hesitant about it, miss…?”

“Marsh,” she offered. “If you don’t mind me asking, sir… where’s Mr. Terry?”

“Well, Mr. Terry has moved on to bigger and brighter things! Specifically, teaching herbology! I, as the groundskeeper, have offered to take this position for him until he can come back to it - once the former herbology teacher gets back from her vacation. She’s having a child, you see.”

“Oh.”

That was… good for her, but kind of bad for them. Terry had been a perfectly fine - if slightly boring - teacher. Mr. Jackson, on the other hand, seemed a little…

But, to be fair, the lesson hadn’t even started yet.

Jackson clapped his hands together.   
  
“Alright! Yes! Yes, I would say that learning how to care for magical creatures is the purpose of this class - in a way that is best for them without getting hurt yourself! With that said - does anyone want to guess what’s in this crate?”

Nobody did.

  
“...Not a very talkative class, eh? That’s alright! I’ll show you!”

Jackson flipped the crate open, and reached in.

He pulled out another box - a transparent one, this time.

When it got far enough out of the crate for students to see what was in it, there were a few very loud shrieks.

An acromantula was sitting at the bottom of the crate - with its six beady eyes and two massive, buggy ones staring right through all of them, glittering in a way that was just a  _ little _ too intelligent.

More than a few students had stumbled several feet backwards upon seeing the hairy, eight-legged beast.

‘

Kate walked forward a few steps.

“Now - does anyone want to tell me what this is?” Jackson said, eerily excited about the question.

Again - after a moment - only Kate raised her hand.

“Oh - Ms. Marsh!”

“An acromantula, sir?”

“That’s right!” Jackson chirped happily, lightly clapping his hands. “Ten points to Hufflepuff! This little’un isn’t fully grown quite yet - this one’s just about three months old! Usually, they’re big as horses, but this little guy is only about half the size of a person! Isn’t he a cute one?”

Kate didn’t think he was a cute one - but he was a fascinating one. She couldn’t help but take another few steps forward, drawn to the creature despite her common sense telling her it could kill her with a single bite.

“Does anyone here know some things about acromantulas?”

Jackson waited patiently.

For a moment, Kate nearly raised her hand again - at least, until she noticed another hand gingerly raise.

It was just a step or two further back than her.

“Yes! You, over there - miss?”

“Chase,” the girl - Chase, apparently, though the name didn’t automatically ring any bells - said. “They have venom that can paralyze.”

“Right! Five points to Slytherin!”

The  _ Slytherin _ reminder suddenly jump-started Kate’s awareness - and she glanced sharply at the girl who had raised her hand.

She just barely caught a glint of blonde hair.

_ Victoria _ Chase.

...She hadn’t even known Victoria took Care of Magical Creatures. She’d had this class with the Gryffindors last year, after all.

“Anything else?” Jackson asked, smiling encouragingly at them all.

Nobody raised their hand this time.

“Alright, well! Ms. Chase was right - the acromantulas have shockingly powerful venom that causes full-body paralysis if not treated quickly. On top of that, the smartest and oldest of them can speak fluent english - meaning they’re likely intelligent enough to be able to know how scared of them you are!”

A few students backed up another couple of steps at that. Kate, meanwhile, took another step forward.

She was at the front of the crowd by now.

She knelt, and looked right into the glittering, black eyes of the creature.

It was really beautiful, in a grotesque kind of way. The eyes reminded her of…

...Of Brooke…

“Hey, little guy,” she muttered, smiling.

The creature blinked at her.

“You’re very pretty, you know that?”

It shifted a little, and crouched a bit lower to the ground.

Jackson had gone nearly silent. She didn’t notice, though.

“Your eyes look a lot like a friend of mine’s. Brooke. I think you’d like her,” she said, sitting down in front of it.

It didn’t react this time.

“...How would you like a name, huh? You’re a boy, right?”

“Yes.”

Kate startled, and glanced sharply to her left.

Jackson was staring at her, head tilted slightly. “Yes. It’s a boy.”

“Oh my God, I am  _ so _ sorry professor, I di-”

“Don’t be sorry, Ms. Marsh,” Jackson said, giving her a soft smile. “You’re doing wonderfully. Now - I believe you were about to come up with a name?”

She blinked.

And smiled.

“How about… Webster?” she said, turning to the acromantula.

She heard Jackson snort. “Nice.”

She shot him a finger gun.

The acromantula was referred to as ‘Webster’ by Mr. Jackson for the rest of the lesson. They took some notes on acromantula facts, drew up a diagram, and were told to do some research and write a paper on how you would defend yourself against them if you ever encountered a colony. They would have another Care class at the end of the day where they would have more time to study the acromantula after reading up a little bit and thinking about their strategy, and then they had the rest of the week to do the essay until the next Monday.

Kate felt eyes on the back of her head when she went to leave. When she turned around to find the source, there was just a tiny crowd of Slytherins talking to each other.

Her eyes lingered on Victoria Chase, for a moment.

She turned and walked away. She had a Study of Ancient Runes class to get to.

* * *

“Brooke?”

She glanced up.

Chloe was standing over her. Her deep blue eyes glittered in the dusky morning light.

The library was Brooke’s favorite place in Hogwarts. The scent of cedar was thick in the air, and ink spotted the fingers of the students. It was a beautiful effect - the early morning light glittering off black stains, and spilling over the warm red woods of the tables. She had spent many nights here, the librarian leaving her the key to lock up after she was done. Brooke was one of the few people she trusted. Those were some of the best times of her life - sitting in front of a book, a single candle burning in front of her, the only symbol of the slowly crawling time. At least, until the next morning came, and Max would find her still there when she didn’t show up at breakfast.

Insomnia was like an old friend on those nights.

“Chloe,” she said, looking down at her book again. “Sit down, if you would.”

“...Okay?”

She heard Chloe pull out her chair across the table. Her fingers gently ran over the edge of the page.

“I’m reading a book called  _ Counter Curses for the Prospective Pureblood. _ It should be in the restricted section, but unfortunately, this school is run by idiots. The Ministry, I mean, and the headmaster. The teachers are fine.”

She didn’t see Chloe blink.

“...Why?”

“Why what?” Brooke fired back. “Why did I invite you to sit down? Why am I reading this book? Why do I think the teachers are fine? Why did I accidentally kill a squirrel at age five and cried about it for three minutes straight before pulling myself together, permanently changed?”

“Why are y… wait, what?”

“I’m reading this book so I can find some counter-curses I’ve been curious about,” Brooke said, glancing up. “I invited you to sit down because I wanted to talk with you about something.”

Chloe scooted her chair forward.

“Well, okay. Lay it on me, sis.”

“Max has offered me a position in her house.”

Chloe blinked. “...What?”

“Well, seeing as how I’m gay, I obviously won’t be able to stay with my own parents for very long if they find out. Max has… offered to harbor me.”

Chloe stared at her for a moment. “That… does sound like Max.”

Brooke snorted. “Tell me about it.”

“So… what does this have to do with me?”

“I wanted to ask if I should accept the offer,” Brooke said, giving Chloe a deep, soft look. “I don’t know Max as well as I would like to. Would I be a burden on her? Would living with someone else scare her? Would it be awkward? You’re her best friend - I wanted your input.”

“Well…”

Chloe bit her lip. Brooke’s eyes latched onto the movement, before darting back up to her eyes.

“I think you should take the offer, if you have to.” Chloe did her best to smile. “Honestly, I think Max would love it. It would be like having a sister. She’s always wanted one.”

“Alright. Thank you, Chloe.”

“Oh, and dude,”

Brooke raised an eyebrow at her.

“If you ever need anything, you know you can ask me, right?” Chloe smirked. “I can kick some serious ass, if you need me to.”

“That’s… very sweet of you, Chloe,” Brooke said, raising an eyebrow at her. “What happened to the new punk facade?”

“I still managed to shoe-horn kicking ass in there,” Chloe said with a grin. “My cred is still intact.”

“Hard disagree. You’ll need to get a dozen piercings and bathe in neon hair dye to get that cred back.”

Chloe snickered. “Jackass.”

“Low-life.”

“Weakling.”

“Emo.”

Chloe winced. “Alright, that’s a low blow.”

Brooke smirked. “Does that mean I win?”

“Don’t study too hard, kid,” Chloe said, leaning over to ruffle Brooke’s hair. She didn’t notice Brooke lean into the gesture, a little. “That head’ll pop soon, with all the text in there.”

“Never. I’ll join a rebellion and fight the slacking-off patriarchy,” Brooke deadpanned. Chloe snorted.

“And keep an eye on the clock!” Chloe added as she left. “Next class starts in like, five minutes!”

Brooke raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “I know.”

Chloe laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brooke Brooke Brooke. We finally got some more POV from characters other than Max.
> 
> I still wanna write some more Chloe POV, too. And some Victoria POV. And maybe a Nathan POV...
> 
> Anyway. There's also Mr. Jackson. Hope you like him.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	12. Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts

“Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Brooke and Kate were sitting next to each other. Kate had her hands folded in front of her. Brooke had her head propped against her arm.

The teacher - Mark Jefferson, Wells had said his name was - had his wand in one hand and a smile on his face.

“My name is Mark Jefferson,” he said, folding his hands behind his back. “You can call me Mr. Jefferson, or Mr. J. Now - this is fourth year, yes?”

A chorus of ‘yes, sir’s.

“Alright,” Jefferson said - and flicked his wand at the chalkboard.

The desks were arranged into pairs. Two desks pressed against each other, set out in a grid pattern and separated into opposite sides of the room. There was a single long, wide column between them - which, effectively, separated the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs. The only pair of desks with a Ravenclaw in one chair and a Hufflepuff in the other was Brooke and Kate’s table.

Other than that, the room was barren and empty. The walls were cold, polished stone. Two large windows let light spill in.

The chalk floated, and began to scratch out on the board in neat, clean script,

_ Jinxes, _

_ Hexes, _

_ And curses. _

“Since this is a single block,” Jefferson said, “I don’t have the time to do everything I want. So, instead, we’ll do the preliminary lesson, and have the more complete one on… tomorrow? I have this class tomorrow too, correct?”

Nodding from the students. Jefferson smiled.

“Thank you. I’m still new here, so - I hope you can find it in your hearts to help me stumble my way through these first few days. Now, if you would, open your textbooks to page 210 - and someone please read, ‘jinxes, hexes, and curses - a prelude’.”

They spent the rest of the lesson reviewing the differences between jinxes, hexes, and curses. Apparently there was just a difference in the apparent ‘darkness’ of the magic at hand - though Jefferson said, in a light tone with just a hint of bite, that,

“How ‘dark’ a given spell is isn’t really a strict definition. It’s a legal one. Throughout the year, we’ll be discussing dark magic in-depth - after all, how can you defend against something you don’t understand? Know thy enemy, and you will win a million victories, to paraphrase Sun Tzu.”

Jefferson also demonstrated several of the jinxes in the book. On himself. The whole class laughed when he made himself tap-dance sporadically around the room - and Jefferson laughed with them.

“Tomorrow!” he called, once the class was over. “We’ll have a more proper lesson, now that you’ve learned some of the basics! Now, go along - get your lunch!”

They did.

* * *

“He seemed nice!”

“Mm,” Brooke said, eyes on the floor in front of her.

“...He’s the best DADA teacher yet, I think. He seemed really competent!”

“Mm.”

“...Are you listening to me, Brooke?”

“Of course,” Brooke said, still not looking up from the ground. “Nice, competent Jefferson. Heard every word.”

“That’s… actually very sweet of you, considering that your head is clearly elsewhere.”

“Mm.”

Kate, for a moment, didn’t respond.

Suddenly - a hand stuck out in front of Brooke’s face.

A hand holding a bronze coin.

“Knut for your thoughts?”

Brooke glanced up, and couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s alright,” she said, pushing the hand down gently. “My thoughts aren’t worth a knut.”

Kate gave her a stern look. “Yes they are, Brooke. Don’t you ever doubt that. Your thoughts are worth the world!”

“Obvious hyperbole,” Brooke said, looking away to hide the small smile and bigger blush on her face.

“Nope! It’s one-hundred percent true! And don’t you ever think otherwise. Now - what’s up?”

“Just… have you ever seen a black cat, Kate? Like, in person?”

“Uh… no?”

“I have,” Brooke said, sticking her hands in her pockets. “They’re really pretty. I’d like to have one.”

Silence, for a moment.

“...You were just thinking about adopting a cat?” Kate said, peering at her.

Brooke snorted. “Well, no, but it was one of the big things I was thinking about. I’d like to have a cat. Would you be willing to point me to a muggle rescue center? They don’t exist in the magical world.”

“That’s… I’d love to, Brooke! You - you really wanna get a cat?”

“I dunno. Maybe,” Brooke said, eyes firmly in front of her.

“You take Care, too, don’t you?”

“Yes. I do.”

“...You love animals, don’t you?”

  
“What? No,” Brooke said, giving her a flat, unimpressed look.

“Yes you do!” Kate chirped, giving her a wide grin. “You do, you love animals! You just wanna cuddle them and raise them and give them all the love in the worl-”

“I just want a fucking cat, alright?” Brooke said, turning away again. “Don’t make it into a psychological analysis.”

“Aw, don’t get all moody on me,” Kate said, pouting at her. “I think it’s cute!”

Brooke turned a bright shade of pink.

“Oh my God, you’re  _ blushing!” _

“Am not,” Brooke said, steps growing ever-faster. “I’ve got to go to the library. I’ll see you around, Katherine.”

“Cuuuute!” Kate called after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter today. Because I didn't have a ton of time to write like usual. Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	13. Sneakier Than I Thought

They sat at the Ravenclaw table, this time. Rachel and Chloe joined them for lunch, and a girl called Steph. 

“You’re a muggleborn, right?” Steph said, the second she’d been introduced to Kate.

“...Yeah?”

“I was wondering - what is a  _ magnet? _ Chloe mentioned them the other day and I haven’t gotten a straight answer out of her about it all day.”

Kate seemed to chew on this question for a moment. “It’s like… a little horseshoe shaped thing - kinda - that pulls metal towards it.”

“Oh. Well that’s easy enough to get. Why didn’t you just say that, Chloe?” Steph said, draping her torso over the girl in question.

Chloe scowled. “Because I don’t owe you an explanation of muggle shit.”

Steph mock-gasped. “Chloe! Can’t you see there are  _ children _ here?”

“My baby ears are permanently damaged,” Brooke deadpanned. “Woe is me.”

Kate giggled.

“Oh, Chloe!” she chirped a moment later, turning to the girl in question. “Did I tell you about this new indie band I found?”

“No?”

“It’s called An Unkindness. They’re really good!”

Chloe smirked. “Like a group of ravens?”

Brooke raised her eyebrows. “You knew that?”

“It was on one of those shitty fun facts websites I visited for entertainment when I was like, six,” Chloe said, leaning back against Steph seemingly unconsciously. “You aren’t the only harbitor of fun facts, kiddo.”

She leaned over to ruffle Brooke’s hair. Brooke ducked her head to dodge it, and grinned.

“Nice try.”

Chloe snickered. “Alright, slick. I’ll get you next time.”

_ “Ahem.” _

Max was the one who glanced up and saw her first.

_ Victoria Chase, _ of all people, was standing over their little group.

The second everyone turned to her, she had no less than three wands pointed at her. One from Chloe, one from Rachel, and one from Brooke.

The blonde had her hands folded primly behind her back, and an icy cold mask of an expression on her face.

She raised a single eyebrow.

“Kate Marsh?” she said, ignoring the three people pointing wands at her and the two people that were simply staring, and instead focusing all her attention on the muggleborn in question.

Kate - who blinked.

“...Yes?” she said.

“May I have a word?”

“You can have a bat-bogey hex right between your fuckin’ eyes-”

“Chloe, please,” Kate murmured, gently pushing her wand down.

Victoria offered Chloe a glance, before turning back to Kate.

“Well?”

“Why should we trust you with our friend?” Rachel said, wand hand dead steady.

“Don’t be an idiot, heir Amber,” Victoria said, giving her a flat, unimpressed look. “If I wanted to hurt your friend, I wouldn’t come up to you publicly and leave no less than five witnesses and possibly an entire Great Hall of them.”

“You aren’t inspiring confidence, you know,” Brooke said - though she stowed her wand away as she did. “And if this isn’t anything dangerous, surely you can talk about it with all of us here?”

Victoria locked eyes with her.

Max stared - and knew that she was the only one here who understood what was happening.

This was a Slytherin battle. And Brooke was acting as their representative.

“It’s okay, Brooke,” Kate said, standing suddenly. Victoria sent her a startled glance. “I’ll go.”

“That’s negotiational suicide,” Max muttered under her breath.

Brooke sent her a startled glance. 

Max shrunk in on herself, a little, and valiantly avoided making eye contact.

“...Alright, Marsh,” Victoria said, taking a step back and holding out her arm - gesturing down the aisle. “Shall we?”

Kate offered her a weak, wavering smile, and walked off.

“...Max.”

Max glanced up.

Brooke was staring right through her.

“We need to talk.”

Max supposed it was too much to hope that Brooke could ignore her little slip.

* * *

“...So? What did you want to talk about, Victoria?”

Victoria stiffened a little.

And then sighed.

“...You are  _ such _ a Hufflepuff.”

Kate blinked. “I am?”

“Yes. You are.”

Kate smiled. “Well, uh - house pride?”

“You shouldn’t be proud at all. Period,” Victoria said, laying her arms down on the table.

  
They had gone to the library for this discussion. Quiet, mostly private, and with plenty of tables. The perfect place to have a semi-secretive discussion.

“It’s Chase,” Victoria said, when Kate looked no closer to understanding her blunder. This conversation was growing exhausting very quickly. “You don’t call a prospective pureblood heir by their first name. As a mudblood, you also don’t have the authority to use my title. So just Chase.”

“...Why?”

“Pardon?” Victoria said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Why not Victoria? You wanna be friends, right? So can’t I call you by your first name?”

“...Alright, clearly you’ve gotten the wrong impression of this meeting,” Victoria said, rubbing one of her temples. “We are not going to be  _ friends. _ This is not me extending an olive branch. This is a negotiation. An armistice - not a peace treaty.”

Kate blinked. “...Huh?”

Victoria sighed.

“We aren’t going to be friends. I heard that you get bad astronomy grades. I need help with Care of Magical Creatures. I think that we could have a mutually beneficial  _ association _ \- not a friendship.”

Kate, for a long moment, just stared.

Victoria stared right back.

“...Well? Do you accept?”

“Why do you even take Care of Magical Creatures, anyway?”

For a moment, something flashed in Victoria’s eyes.

“This is not a quid pro quo, Mars-”

“It’s alright,” Kate said with a smile. “You can call me Kate.”

“This is not a quid pro quo,  _ Marsh.” _ Victoria said, glaring at her. “Do you accept or not?”

“I was just curious,” Kate said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Of course you fucking won’t, because I won’t answer,” Victoria snapped - before, suddenly and forcibly, gathering herself again. “...Do we have a deal?”

“Sure!” Kate chirped, giving her a wide smile. “I’ll help you out! I can always use another study buddy.”

“We are not going to be  _ study buddies,” _ Victoria hissed, glaring at her.

“Then what will we be?” Kate said, sounding genuinely confused.

“Acquaintances at best,” Victoria said, scowling.

“...Study  _ acquaintances _ doesn’t have the same ring to it  _ at all, _ though,” Kate said, leaning back and scratching her cheek thoughtfully. “Study pals? Study friends?” She snapped her fingers triumphantly, and grinned at Victoria. “Study  _ cronies.” _

“I hate you,” Victoria muttered, already regretting this.

But she really needed help with Care. She could read the books, but practical work was very, very hard. And after hearing so many wonderful things about Kate’s Care classes just subtly asking around, she feared that there was no other option.

This was her last resort. Her ace in the hole, before OWL year.

...She would just have to muscle through it.

“Are any of your friends going to be studying with us?” Kate chirped,  _ still smiling. _

_ Doesn’t that hurt her cheeks after a while? _

“Of course not,” Victoria said, waving her off and trying her very best not to tack ‘dumbass’ onto the end of her sentence. “The only Slytherins who take Care are usually mudbloods-”

“Could you please not use that word?” Kate said.

“Are usually  _ mudbloods _ who don’t know better,” Victoria said, plowing past the objection without a second thought. “Besides, I don’t have friends.”

Kate blinked. “...You don’t? What about Nathan?”

_ “Prescott _ is an acquaintance. His family is associated with mine. We aren’t  _ friends,” _ Victoria said, trying to ignore the way Kate peered at her. With wide, soft eyes that seemed to be trying to pry open her very soul.

“...Oh. Okay. Well - I’ll just have to be your first, then!” Kate chirped.

“We are  _ not _ going to be friends, Marsh.”

Kate grinned at her. “How much do you want to bet?”

Victoria considered. “Ten galleons.”

Kate’s eyebrows crawled up. “Uhm - I didn’t really… yeah, okay! Ten galleons.”

“So mote it be,” Victoria said, voice tired. She flicked her wand lazily, and a burst of dusky orange light showered over them.

Kate smiled widely.

* * *

“The Hat considered you for Slytherin, didn’t it.”

Max, instantly, recoiled. “What? No, of course it di-”

“Did. It did,” Brooke said, plowing right past her objection. “I must confess, I didn’t have you pegged as a missort, even with Chloe’s little stunt on the first day. I thought that Hat was considering you for Hufflepuff, if anything. But a snake in lion’s clothes…”

“Brooke, really, I’m not a - a  _ snake,” _ Max said, holding up her hands like Brooke was holding her at gunpoint.

“...That Hat wanted me for Slytherin, too, you know.”

Max blinked. “I…”

Brooke stared right through her.

“...Yeah,” Max muttered, hunching in on herself a little. “I knew.”

“Because family always knows each other,” Brooke said, raising an eyebrow at her. 

Max didn’t say anything.

“Would you like to know why I didn’t want to go to Slytherin?” Brooke said, with an eyebrow raise.

Max glanced up.

“My parents,” she said, leaning forward a little. “They were in Slytherin. I didn’t want to end up anything like them, but… the Hat wouldn’t consider me for anything else.”

Max blinked. “Really? You seem like a natural Ravenclaw to me.”

“Honestly, the Hat… considered me for Gryffindor before Ravenclaw,” Brooke muttered, looking away.

Max raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Max didn’t think she’d ever heard Brooke say  _ yeah.  _ “But Mom and Dad wouldn’t accept that in a million years.”

Max hesitated for a moment.

And then she leaned forward, and took Brooke’s hand.

Brooke started, and glanced up.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, stroking a thumb down Brooke’s knuckles. “It must’ve been awful living with them.”

Something dark and sharp glittered in Brooke’s black eyes, for a moment.

“...Yes. It was,” she said - and pulled her hand subtly out of Max’s grasp. “But we weren’t talking about me.”

Max blushed.

“You’re sneakier than I gave you credit for,” Brooke said, eyes still glittering. “But you aren’t getting out of this that easy.”

“I’m really not a Slytherin, Brooke,” Max said, trying for the second-best option - running away. She stood up from her chair - they had gone to the Gryffindor dorms for this - and started towards the door. “Let’s go back to the Great Hall, okay? Maybe we can still get some peppermint toads before lunch ends.”

She opened the door, jumped out, and closed it behind her before Brooke could say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To apologize for the short chapter last time, this one is thick and important. Next chapter should be pretty short, though, so sorry in advance.
> 
> For a solid moment there I wondered why I had made this fic ChaseMarsh to begin with, considering so many other great ships were right in front of me. And then I wrote them interacting, and it all came back to me.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	14. If She Followed The Rules

Max scowled in frustration.

Kate elbowed her, and offered a reassuring smile. “Hey - what’s that scowl doing on my bestie’s face, huh?”

Max’s scowl softened into a smile.

And then vanished again with a sigh.

“Just… this is really frustrating.”

Kate reached forward, and pet the pineapple tap-dancing on her desk on the head. Or top, anyway. “Good job.”

Max sighed at her own pineapple - laying on the desk, completely prone.

“...I don’t get it,” Kate said, peering at her pineapple too. “You did the incantation right! You’re clearly putting lots of emotion behind it! And your wand movement is perfect! You’re really good at most types of magic - why can’t you do charms?”

“Tell me about it,” Max muttered.  _ “Tarantallegra.” _

Her pineapple didn’t even roll over.

_ “Tarantallegra,” _ she said again - a little more forcefully, this time.

Nothing.

“Hey - it’s alright, Max,” Kate murmured, patting her shoulder sympathetically. “You’re really good at transfiguration! I bet with just a few of those tutoring sessions, you’ll be at the same level as the rest of us! When’s your first one?”

“Tomorrow.” 

“Well, I bet you’ll see a ton of improvement just from one!” Kate said, giving her a hopeful smile.

_ “Tarantallegra,” _ Max said, flicking her wand a little more sharply than was strictly necessary.

A chunk of the pineapple decayed. Green-and-blue mold grew between the crevices, and a thick, black liquid seeped from it.

Max sighed. Kate raised both her eyebrows, looking a little scared.

“...A  _ ton _ of improvement,” she said again - though this time, she seemed to be more trying to convince herself than Max.

A tiny spurt of pineapple juice, tinted grey, burst from the fruit.

Max sighed again.

* * *

Once charms class finished, Max stepped into the closest closet - a slightly risky move in Hogwarts, but one that worked out - and sighed.

_...Alright. Time to use this thing. _

Her hands reached up to her neck, and pulled the time turner out from underneath her shirt for the first time all day.

She fingered the chord of it.

And sighed.

“...Okay.”

Her fingers wrapped around the hourglass. It seemed to burn in her palm.

She turned it once.

A pause.

She blinked.

...Nothing had happened.

She glanced down at the turner.

No cracks. No sand spilling out. No obvious malfunctions.

So… had it…

She opened the door to the closet - and nearly jumped three feet in the air at the wall of sound that hit her.

The hallway was full.

...Just like it had been an hour ago, when she’d gone to Charms class.

A shiver dripped down her spine.

Her eyes ran up and down the corridor - and found Brooke.

She rushed out - pushing through the crowd - and found herself next to her Ravenclaw friend.

Brooke glanced to her side - and her eyebrows darted up.

“Max? I thought you were in the dorms getting stuff for charms.”

“Oh. Uh, I took a shortcut,” Max said, grabbing Brooke’s arm to pull her along. “Come on, let’s get to History.”

“What? I thought I had History with the Slythe-?”

“The teacher made an exception. Go to them about it, if you’re curious,” Max said, shouldering through the crowd and making sure to temper her tone into something icy. Like Brooke was offending her.

“...Alright.”

Max barely repressed a sigh of relief.

“Let’s go.”

* * *

History was as boring as usual. Max took meticulous notes, of course, but she could barely stay awake for it. Her hand moved practically on its own, recording a whole four pages of tight script worth of pure boredom.

She stayed for the whole two blocks. Two hours of pure, unadulterated torture.

Her fingers found their way around the chord of her time turner more than once. Mind on nothing but how… sudden the shift had been. How unnoticeable. Her stomach hadn’t gone into her throat, the world hadn’t spun around her. Just… one moment in the future, the next, in the past.

It… wasn’t very scary.

Eventually, the sickening feeling that came with doing something that could be dangerous began to ease, as the universe  _ didn’t _ start screaming at her for breaking its rules.

Everything was fine.

She never came close to encountering her past self. Nothing changed. When she met up with Kate, after class, she just asked where Max had gone. Max said she’d forgotten her ink, and had gone back to get it.

And then they all went to the Gryffindor dorms, to hang out and talk until six. When dinner came. Brooke went off to do… whatever Brooke did when she wasn’t talking to them. Steph dropped by with Rachel and was very excited to learn the muggle card game ‘rummy’. Unsurprisingly, though, Rachel ended up winning. Brooke usually won, purely because she had such a fantastic poker face, but Rachel had the smarts and instincts of a vulture. She gobbled them up like prey.

Chloe won a single time, too, because she managed to lose all her cards so quickly. Kate won a single time, too, through pure luck and a dumb discarding of an ace from Rachel. Steph lost horribly every round and barely had a firm grasp on the rules by the end, but she was so happy playing with them that she celebrated just as much as the winners by the end.

And Max pretended like she couldn’t see all of Kate’s cards and threw a game or two.

By the time dinner rolled around, Max’s anxiety had all but dissolved. The gentle weight against her chest felt like just that - a gentle weight. Not a burning hot coal or a steel anchor.

Maybe time travel wasn’t really that dangerous. Maybe if she just followed the rules, she’d end up fine.

She slept soundly for the first time since she’d gotten the turner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No notes this time. Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	15. It Is A Weapon

Max woke up feeling refreshed for the first time in… well, in a while.

She sat up, and stretched - her hands arcing casually over her head. Her loose white t-shirt rode up her taut stomach, a little, and she relished the feeling of the cold air against her skin.

“Ahem.”

She startled - and glanced in front of her.

Brooke was sitting on the ground next to her bed.

“Jesus-!” she bit, stumbling back a bit. If she’d been on her bed at home, she almost certainly would’ve stumbled off. “Brooke? What’re you doing here?”

“Waiting for you to wake up,” she said, offering her an eyebrow raise. “We have an arithmancy class to get to, and you slept right through most of breakfast. I decided to let you sleep in. Nice stomach, by the way.”

Max flushed red to her collar, and flung her legs off the side of the bed.

“How long until class?” she muttered - and paused. “Plus, how did you know I have that class with you?”

“I looked at your schedule. To see what other classes you’d taken extra blocks for,” Brooke said - apparently not noticing how Max stiffened. “I think you’ve made a mistake or two, though, drawing this out - the copies the teacher gave you made sense, but… you’ve got a few overlapping blocks here.”

Max had to frantically search for the subtleties in Brooke’s voice without turning around. To see if she’d been caught.

Brooke  _ sounded _ genuine. And her first guess certainly shouldn’t have been  _ time travel. _

But she was suspicious.

Max would have to be more careful.  _ Much _ more careful. She might get the turner taken away if she broke Hoida’s rules - one of which was that her friends sure as hell couldn’t know about it.

“I messed some stuff up,” Max muttered, walking to the bathroom door. “I’ll get it re-drawn soon. I’ve got a free block tomorrow - I’ll do it then. How much time do we have until class?”

“About ten minutes. So make that shower quick,” Brooke said, standing. “I’ll wait for you, but I’d rather not be late. I saved you some sausage, by the way - it’s on your nightstand.”

Max couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Brooke.”

“Don’t mention it,” Brooke said, keeping her eyes firmly above Max’s jawline. Mainly because Max wasn’t currently wearing pants, and her t-shirt was slipping off one of her shoulders.

Max walked into the bathroom. The second the door closed, the blank mask slipped off Brooke’s face.

“...I didn’t know you wore jewelry,” she muttered under her breath, the image of a glint of gold on Max’s neck flashing in her mind.

“...You’re hiding something.”

* * *

Arithmancy was… interesting.

And hard. It was very hard.

This was mainly because it was… well, exactly what it said on the tin. Arithmetic sorcery. Math magic.

And it was around seventy percent math, thirty percent magic. And one hundred percent frustration.

The fact that Brooke had actually managed to  _ make a spell _ practically made her the best authority on the subject to Max. Arithmancy was a massive part of making a spell - the numbers involved were honestly sickeningly complex. Even though Brooke had just made a fairly simple area-of-effect charm - Muffliato, which caused an odd buzzing in the ears of nearby people that would obscure the sound of two people talking, and thus prevent eavesdropping - and an easy hex - Langlock, which stuck someone’s tongue to the roof of their mouth and made them unable to speak - it was still incredibly impressive. And Brooke said she was in the middle of making another spell which she might take a year or two to finish - a full-on combat spell.

This made her the best Arithmancy student in the class. And it made her a  _ wonderful _ study partner, even if she often had trouble enunciating exactly how to do certain math problems. She made it sound like  _ Egyptian _ at times - but it seemed to come as easily as English to her.

It was the second Arithmancy class Max had had. The first had been with the Slytherins, who were - of course - wonderful at Arithmancy.

The teacher gave them all an assignment to do, by the next class they had - which was the day after tomorrow. Some simple worksheets to do, some tables of equations to fill out.

It looked like Latin to Max.

Leaving the classroom was like a weight off her chest.

She had to use her time turner, to get to her next class.

Only problem being - Brooke was clung firmly to her side.

“Uh - crap - I think I left my textbook,” Max said, taking a step back. “I should probabl-”

“I’ll get it,” Brooke fired back in a moment. “You need to catch up with Kate to go to potions anyway, right? You shouldn’t need it for a while. I’ll get it for you and give it to you at lunch.”

Max felt a small shard of panic dig into her ribs.

“No, that’s alright,” Max said instantly, taking another step back. “It was my bad - I should go-”

“I’ll get it. You go to your next class,” Brooke said, already walking off to the Arithmancy classroom.

She vanished into the crowd.

“...Fuck,” Max muttered.

...Well. Whatever. She’d just say that it had been at the bottom of her bag.

Next time, she should actually leave something in the classroom, if that was going to be her excuse.

She ducked into an alcove, and spun the turner once.

The world shifted.

This time, she saw it all clearly. Heard the sounds. It was like a great, shrill scream - her ears popped with the pressure of the sudden shift. Students reversed, vanished, and returned in a split-second. Blinding amounts of movement and light.

It was like being in the eye of a storm.

By the end - it was like nothing had changed. There was the same amount of class-switching traffic. The same amount of noise.

Like it had all just been one big, passing storm. That had crashed in, and vanished the next moment.

She racked her brain for what was happening an hour prior.

...She should be just past this alcove, considering she was in the classroom before the teacher came in.

She slipped into the crowd, and headed in the direction of her first Study of Ancient Runes class.

* * *

She had Runes with the Hufflepuffs, luckily, so Kate was there to offer moral support - and assure her that the teacher was competent.

“Mr. Keaton is… weird, but competent,” Kate said. “He… um… well, you’ll see.”

And, indeed - Max saw.

“Welcome back to the classroom, faithful proteges!” he called upon his entrance, a stack of books in his hands, a chalk stain on his cheek and a quill taking notes on a notepad floating behind him. “I do hope thou art ready to saunter forth into the forest of all knowledge, and come out with stings filled to  _ bursting _ with the venom of curiosity!”

“Just pray there isn’t a pop quiz,” Kate muttered into her ear. “He  _ really _ likes pop quizzes.”

For the lesson, Keaton demanded that they all draw a fire rune capable of producing blue flames before the class was out. This was a task easier said than done, since blue flame has to burn at about 2600 degrees fahrenheit, or 1400 degrees celsius, meaning you either had to draw a singular rune accurate and strong enough to hold that much magic, and then be able to channel that much magic into it - via incantation or wand - or you had to draw accurate enough strengthening runes to do that for you.

Or, of course, you could go for Max’s unique method of instead creating a rune circle unstable enough to produce such a powerful flame. And since they were all using protective bubbles, it wouldn’t torch the classroom.

When Kate glanced over and saw what she was doing, she turned an alarming shade of white.

“...Max, you aren’t going to-”

“Yep,” Max said, barely repressing the urge to grin widely. “I’m not good enough to do anything else, so…”

Kate didn’t try to say anything about it again for the rest of the lesson - though she did send Max a concerned glance every now and again.

“Ms. Caulfield, I dost believe thou-”

Keaton stopped suddenly when he saw her run circle.

“...Art new to this class,” he muttered, peering at her circle.

She tapped the outside of her protective bubble - and muttered her chosen activation phrase.

_ “Cool guys don’t look at explosions.” _

And her circle burst into a blue fireball.

It flared up for a moment - nearly blinding in its brightness - and Max took a moment to thank God for making the protective bubble muffle sound.

Keaton stared for a long moment.

And then laughed.

“Wonderous try, Ms. Caulfield!” he crowed happily, and made a mark on his sheet. “I pass thou  _ only once. _ Next time, I expect thou to finish the assignment as requested.”

Max smiled. “I’ll do my best, sir.”

And with that, Keaton moved on.

Most people failed the lesson. Kate managed to pass - though her flame only managed to stay blue for about two seconds before sputtering out. And a girl named Alyssa, who was apparently the best runes student in the class, managed to make a completely stable blue flame with a complicated circle. A few other students managed to get a flame to flare blue, if only for a moment, with either sheer force of magic or a clever circle layout.

Next came a double potions block.

Potions was taught by Frank Bowers, who was… one of the more interesting teachers in Hogwarts. He was head of Slytherin house, though many Slytherins viewed him, not as a mentor, but rather as a missort. He seemed to be pretty much constantly angry or irritated, and failing to do an assignment correctly often meant that a lecture on what your mistake was wasn’t very far away. And it would be told to the  _ whole class _ \- thus meaning the lesson would be brought to a screeching halt, and often you would be the subject of ridicule from your classmates and friends as a result.

Despite this, though, he was a remarkably decent teacher. His lectures, despite being irritated and overly-passionate, often elaborated on the theory behind potions in ways that Max couldn’t help but find, at times, genuinely interesting, and usually assured that nobody would make the same mistake again. A full-class rant on why a mistake was incredibly stupid and could possibly end in casualties was, after all, a very memorable event. It also meant that people had tons of motivation to follow the instructions  _ to the tee, _ rather than risking experimentation or rushing.

“Alright, you little turds,” he said upon their entrance, voice hoarse and scratchy. “We’ve got something pretty damn easy today. You shouldn’t manage to mess it up too bad, especially with all the extra time. Get your cauldrons on the fire, and we’ll start with a base heat of 260 degrees fahrenheit.”

One student was stupid enough not to tie up their hair, which lead to a small disruption in which Bowers lectured them all on the proper safety - “which you all should’ve learned in  _ first year, _ do you need me to hold your hands when you’re dropped off too?” - but, outside of that, the lesson went by remarkably smoothly. Bowers was in a pretty stable mood, despite the bags under his eyes.

“Oh, right, and Caulfield, stay after class,” he threw out in the middle of the lesson. Max nearly dropped the handful of fluxweed she’d been holding over the potion while Kate stirred.

The second people began muttering, Bowers glanced up.

“Oh, shut up,” he growled - the class went silent immediately. “Can’t any of you mind your own damn business for once? She hasn’t killed a dog or anything.” He peered at her. “Yet.”

Max had never been sure when Bowers was making a joke. It was better to just not risk laughing.

“You all should be ready to drop in your fluxweed by now,” he added. People rushed to toss handfuls of the weed into their potion.

The only other disruption to the lesson was when someone accidentally let their flame die down, which led to a useless pile of sludge instead of an effective burn-soothing potion. Bowers, for a moment, looked on the verge of shouting at the pair of Hufflepuffs - but then, he simply sighed.

“Trash it.”

When the Hufflepuffs paused - hesitant to trash the last hour of work - he bit out a harsh, _"_ _ now,” _ which instantly evaporated any doubt as to how lenient he was being.

“T.” he said, rubbing one of his temples. “You get a T for this lesson. This could’ve cost a man two more hours of agony. Or a limb. Or his  _ life. _ Maybe if your grade plummets, you won’t make such a stupid mistake next time.

“Dismissed,” he spit out. “And a full essay on the dangers of incorrect temperature regulation, due by next class. Friday. Now get out.”

Everyone rushed to gather their things and leave. Well, everyone except Max - who knew better than to think Bowers had forgotten her.

Kate gave her a reassuring glance and a hand on her shoulder before leaving.

The second the door closed, some of the tension unravelled from Bowers’s shoulders.

He sighed as he sat down behind his desk.

“...Well? Sit down,” he said, flicking his wand at the opposite side of his desk - where a rickety-looking stool appeared for Max.

She hesitantly walked up and took the seat.

“...Sorry,” he muttered eventually. “That thing’s probably not very comfortable. Never was good at that chair-conjuring trick.”

Max blinked. “It’s… fine, sir.”

A moment of silence.

“Cau-”

Bowers was cut off by the soft sound of scratching.

He glanced up - and sighed again.

He flicked his wand at the door.

The moment it was open, a brown, strongly-built dog padded into the classroom, and bounded across the room to sit down at Bowers’s feet.

Bowers smiled softly.

“Hey, boy,” he muttered, leaning down to scratch between the dog’s ears.

Max blinked. “You… have a dog, sir?”

“Pompidou,” he said shortly, still scratching the dog’s - Pompidou’s - ears. “Had him for a year or so now. He’s a little bastard.”

Bowers’s voice was softer and kinder than Max had ever heard it.

After a moment, Bowers leaned up again, and crossed his arms on the table. His eyes - a shade of black that seemed to cave into his skull - peered right through her.

“I heard they’ve given you a time turner.”

Max blinked once - and nodded.

Bowers sighed.

“Stupid move, if you ask me. But nobody did, so.” He scowled slightly. “I trust Hoida gave you a breakdown of the rules.”

Max nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He peered at her.

She shifted awkwardly.

“Listen, kid,” he said eventually - his voice came out a little less bitter than usual. “I know you’re young. And I know you don’t know much about consequences. But if you fuck with that thing, you’re risking lives.”

Max blinked at the swear - but nodded.

“I know, si-”

“Don’t pull that shit on me,” he growled - she pulled back a little. Suddenly, all the relaxation and age had vanished from Bowers’s face - replaced with that dog-like fierceness that she knew so well. “You don’t know crap. You don’t know consequences. You don’t know what risking lives  _ means.” _

“Yes, sir,” she squeaked, pulled back as far as possible.

Bowers glared at her for a moment.

And sighed, pulling back again.

“...And there’s no way I could teach you,” he muttered. “Nothing but age teaches you that.”

Max blinked. Again.

“Just never forget what that thing is, kid,” he said, pointing at where the turner rested below her shirt with alarming accuracy. “It isn’t a toy. It isn’t a tool. It’s a  _ weapon. _ and if you treat it like anything else - if you forget what it can  _ do _ \- then you’ll start putting lives on the line.”

Max nodded meekly.

“...Get out of my sight, kid,” he growled, putting his head in his hands.

Max scrambled to leave.

Halfway to the door, though, she skidded to a halt - because Pompidou had just padded in front of her.

He looked up at her - panting - and grinned his wide, doggy grin.

She moved to step past him - but he blocked her path.

“...He wants a scratch.”

Max glanced back at Bowers - who was staring silently at the interaction. His eyes were alarmingly blank.

“Behind his ear,” he said, staring right through her with those pit-like eyes. “Give him a scratch. He’s a spoiled little shit, he won’t let you pass until he gets it.”

Max blinked.

And leaned down, to gently scratch behind Pompidou’s ear.

Pompidou leaned into the scratch - and his leg jack-rabbited against the ground.

“Good boy,” she muttered. “Now can I get past?”

Pompidou didn’t respond.

Max stopped scratching, and walked around him.

The second the door was closed, a weight left her chest. She sighed heavily, pressing a hand against her heart.

And against the time turner.

She paused, for a moment.

And started walking towards the Great Hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not giving enough focus to the ships.
> 
> I promise, once the first week is over, this fic will start moving a lot more quickly. Probably. Maybe.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R


	16. A Burst of Hot Air on a Cold Day

When she got to the Great Hall for lunch, Kate and Brooke were already waiting for her. At the Gryffindor table, this time, which was a nice surprise - especially since it meant Chloe was there.

Max hadn’t really had a lot of time to think about Chloe.

Her style change was… radical, for sure. The blue hair, beanie, undone tie and unbuttoned blazer contrasted starkly against what she had been like last year.

Chloe had been a wreck last year. After her dad died, she’d spiralled into an unapproachable kind of depression. Her blazer was buttoned up and her tie was tied, but oftentimes her clothes were dirty and stained. Her blonde hair turned brown after so little time outdoors - oftentimes Chloe went without a shower so long it would turn a greasy shade of near-black, and she would reek of axe body spray. This lasted for about two months before she finally started to pull herself together - mostly because of the constant support and gentle prodding of Rachel, who refused to leave Chloe’s side most of the time.

Max wished she had been Chloe’s standing stone. Chloe had been her’s more times than she could count. But… it had been hard hanging out with her. Seeing the light in her deep blue eyes replaced with a stirring self-loathing and bubbling malice was… nauseating, to say the least.

After half the year had passed, Chloe had started attending her classes regularly again. She’d apparently been in danger of flunking out before finally pulling herself from her stupor. It had given her something to do - catching up with all the work she’d missed and learning everything she needed to for the exams. She hadn’t been  _ good, _ exactly, but manically studying was better than silently stewing.

And this year she was… 

A punk rock lesbian, apparently.

She was a lot better, too, clearly. Maybe not as cheerful as before, but… better. Much better. Max wasn’t sure what had happened to her over the Summer - she hadn’t exactly been keeping a close correspondence with Chloe, between her trip to Seattle and being too steeped in her own things (and anxiety) to keep up with any of her friends.

But she planned to fix that this year. Reconnecting with Chloe should be easy enough.

She sat down next to her best friend, and across from Kate. Brooke was across from Chloe.

“Yo, Maxxie,” Chloe said, leaning over to spear a meatball on her fork. “The kids were just catching me up. What did Bowers keep you in for?”

“Uh, just some homework I didn’t finish,” Max muttered, leaning over to spear a meatball of her own.

“I hate him.” Chloe twirled her fork. “Have I said that yet today?”

Brooke seemed to chew on this question. “...No, I don’t believe you have.”

“Well. There it is.”

Max hesitated. “...Did you know he has a dog?”

Six eyes blinked at her.

“...Huh?”

“Pardon?”

“Puppy?”

Chloe, Brooke, and Kate all spoke at the same time - leading to another trio of blinks.

“Yeah,” Max said, “apparently he got him just last year. Pompidou.”

“Pompidou?” Kate cooed, hands on her cheeks. “Oh my Lord that’s so precious.”

“Uncharacteristically so,” Brooke muttered thoughtfully, popping a meatball into her mouth.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Chloe said, grimacing. “Stone cold bastard’s probably raising him to be put into illegal dogfights or some shit.”

“I dunno. He actually seemed kinda spoiled,” Max said, smiling a little at the memory. “I think Professor Bowers just… likes dogs.”

“Bet you ten sickles I can turn him pink by the end of the week,” Chloe said, grinning.

“Bowers, or Pompidou?” Brooke said.

“Why not both?”

“Are we including the weekend?”

“Well, yeah, I need some time outside classes.”

Brooke considered. “...Twenty sickles.”

“Hell yeah.”

“So mote it be,” Brooke said, flicking her wand sharply. A rain of orange sparks cascaded over them.

Kate seemed to be itching to either tell them off or bet herself.

Max ate another meatball.

* * *

“Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

The teacher, Jefferson, was standing at the front of the class, looking down at them with a soft smile. His hands were folded behind his back.

“Pair up,” he said simply, tilting his head slightly at them.

Everyone blinked.

“With someone who isn’t from your house,” he added, still smiling. “Pair up. Quickly now.”

After a pause - there was the screeching chorus of chairs sliding against the floor.

Max shuffled slightly in her seat.

This wouldn’t have been a hard order to fulfill  _ at all _ \- if she had taken this class with any house  _ but _ Slytherin.

As-is, all the Gryffindors were forced to reluctantly pair themselves with whoever they thought was the least terrible Slytherin. This meant that Victoria Chase, who was seen as the most icy and therefore least volatile Slytherin, was paired with quickly.

It took several minutes for everyone to pair up.

By the end, Max was left sitting alone at her desk, having taken no initiative to find a partner.

Jefferson raked his eyes over all of them. His smile had fallen away by now, replaced with a blank mask of an expression that left Max no insight on what he was thinking.

“Who doesn’t have a partner? Raise your hand.”

Max, slowly, raised her hand.

Another hand raised across the classroom.

“Alright,” Jefferson hummed thoughtfully, “Ms…?”

He gestured to Max.

“Caulfield, sir,” she offered quietly.

“Stand up, please, Ms. Caulfield,” Jefferson said, taking a step back and giving her a reassuring smile.

Slowly - and very reluctantly - Max stood up.

Every eye in the classroom was stapled to her.

“Since you and Mr. Prescott were the last people to get partnered up,” he said, “I’ve decided to single you both out. Don’t worry, this will likely be the only time I do so - I just had no better method of choosing students. Mr. Prescott, please, get up here.”

Max heard the firm screech of a chair being shoved back, and saw a Slytherin student with light brown hair and dangerously flat blue eyes march to the front, head down.

“Oh, come now, no need for that hangdog expression, you two!” Jefferson said, trying for an encouraging smile. “Mr. Prescott, please stand here,”

He gestured to a spot to the left of his desk.

“And Ms. Caulfield, here.”

He gestured to a spot to the right of his desk.

Max shifted a little, and stepped over to the spot. She faced the classroom, and tried to ignore the embarrassed prickle at the back of her neck from having so many eyes on her.

She saw the boy apparently called ‘Prescott,’ though she didn’t recognize the name, do the same in her peripherals.

“Face each other,” Jefferson said, pulling out his wand and twirling it casually.

Max turned stiffly to Prescott. Prescott pivoted sharply on his heel to face her.

His face was a mask of pure malice.

She resisted the urge to shudder.

“Now,” Jefferson said, tone bright and easy, “you are both going to try and disarm each other.”

Max’s eyes popped open. Surprise flashed across Prescott’s face, for a moment - and then vanished like smoke.

“Oh, clam down, it’s perfectly harmless,” Jefferson said, directing this assurance at Max with a soft smile. Max didn’t manage to smile back.

Jefferson walked behind his desk, and picked up his chair.

He set it next to Prescott - who eyed said chair up with visible confusion.

Jefferson moved to stand next to Max, and shifted into a firm stance. His wand was held directly in front of him, hand deadly still and eyes sharp upon his chair.

“Expelliarmus,” he bit out - and his voice had shifted from the easy, carefree, assuring tone to something dangerous and commanding.

The spell shot out of Jefferson’s wand.

Spells looked… odd, and often different depending on the caster. Some spells - mostly charms - simply acted on the object in question, no transference or bolt of light needed. But most of them didn’t quite work like that.

The only spell that Max had ever seen that didn’t change slightly depending on the caster was the killing curse. In every portrait, the spell looked exactly the same - a blindingly harsh bolt of pure lime green light, that seemed to tear through the sky at breakneck speed.

Kate’s spells often looked a little less… harsh. More like a pen stroke. Thin, slightly slow, but very deliberate. Brooke’s spells looked like needles - sharp and sure. Chloe’s spells were like lightning bolts - fast, jagged, temperamental, and dangerous. And beautiful.

Max’s spells looked normal, as far as she was concerned. Brooke, though, described her spells as ‘bleached’. When asked to elaborate, Brooke hadn’t been able to - and had said that she didn’t know another way to explain it.

Jefferson’s spell looked like a burst of hot air on a cold day. It refracted the air - the pale red colour of the charm barely even really visible. If it hadn’t been cast in such an obvious way, Max thought she might’ve even been able to miss that Jefferson had cast a spell at all.

It hit the chair.

Nothing happened.

“Now, since this chair obviously isn’t a person,” Jefferson said, the danger gone from his voice and replaced with an easy humour, “it’s not going to lose a wand. I just wanted to demonstrate the spell. Notice the wand movement - just a sharp turn of the wrist. Like you’re turning a door handle. Both of you are going to try and disarm each other by casting this spell,  _ once. _ Once and only once. You have one chance. You are not allowed to cast any other spell. You are not allowed to cast a shield spell. You may dodge. Now - ready your wands.”

Prescott seemed to be more than ready for this order. He pulled his wand out with a single, sharp movement.

There wasn’t any pleasure or malice in his eyes. Just a sharp, burning intent.

Max fumbled to pull out her own wand.

“On the count of three. One. Two.”

Jefferson paused dramatically. A few of her classmates snorted.

Max’s spine was as tense and taut as a bowstring.

“Three!”

_ “Expelliarmus!” _ Prescott called, lunging forward as he cast.

Max was barely aware of what was happening.

One moment, Prescott was taking a single step forward, the spell rushing from his wand - and the next, there was no classroom. There was no Prescott. There was no Jefferson, or peering eyes, or expectant classmates.

There was just a spell rushing at her.

She shifted.

It came to her as easily as breathing. The spell rushed out from under her arm - because she was pivoting cleanly, turning, so that she favored the side her right hand was on as she took a clean step forward.

Her wrist flicked, sharply and cleanly.

_ “Expelliarmus.” _

There was a flash of light. A rushing sound - like a swooping bird.

And Prescott reacted on instinct.

His wand flicked up in front of him, and drew a single sharp, sure line upward. He mumbled something - and a blue shield flashed in front of him.

Max’s spell was absorbed harmlessly.

And then, the next moment, Prescott was moving his hand sharply again - this time in a half-moon shape.

_ “Collosho.” _

Max took a stumbling step back - completely unprepared for an actual  _ duel _ \- and weakly shielded herself with her arms.

But the spell never made contact.

When she glanced up, Jefferson was standing in front of her. Wand drawn, and eyes deadly sharp.

“I said you are not allowed to cast any other spells, Mr. Prescott,” he bit. His tone was just as sharp as his eyes.

Prescott floundered.

“Ten points from Slytherin,” Jefferson said, stepping to the side again and pocketing his wand. “You’re lucky that was just a stickfast hex, Mr. Prescott, or else you’d have several days detention on top of it.”

Prescott’s eyes burned.

“Back to your desk, Mr. Prescott,” Jefferson said, still glaring.

“Yes, sir,” Prescott bit, marching back to his desk with loud steps.

A pause hung over the room.

“Five points to Gryffindor, Ms. Caulfield, for a wonderful demonstration,” Jefferson added, giving her his best attempt at a soft smile. “Back to your seat, please.”

Max nodded, and rushed back to her desk on light steps, eyes firmly stapled to the ground.

“Clearly,” Jefferson said, eyes drifting back to Prescott for a moment, “you all cannot be trusted to follow dueling instructions. We will be practicing on pillows instead. Luckily, I was prepared for this possibility, and have pincushions with needles in them ready. Every spell should take a needle out of the cushion if performed properly. They all have shield charms surrounding them, so no needles should be taking out anyone’s eyes. Everyone come to the front and get a cushion.”

They did, indeed, spend the rest of the lesson practicing on pincushions. By the end of class, Max earned another five points for Gryffindor, for having managed to take every needle out of her’s. Only five people managed to do this - three Slytherins and two Gryffindors, including Max. Prescott was one of the Slytherins - but Jefferson didn’t give him any points.

Max was already starting to establish an opinion of Jefferson.

Competent. He was very, very competent. Good instincts and a kind demeanor, as long as you didn’t blatantly ignore instructions or disrespect him.

Brooke would probably love him by the end of the year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A more proper Jefferson chapter.
> 
> Sorry this is a little later than normal. I didn't have a ton of time to write yesterday. I'm not super sure how long I'll be able to keep up this chapter-a-day schedule, but. I'll keep trying.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	17. This Isn't Fair

_ Knock knock. _

“Come in.”

Max, gently, pushed the door open.

Ms. Grant glanced up from some paperwork she was filling out - and smiled at her.

“Max. Please, sit down.”

She gestured to a seat on the other side of her desk.

Max padded quietly to the front - taking a moment to glance up and down the classroom.

The desks were all stacked up in the far corner. The class was completely bare outside of them, and Ms. Grant’s desk. The only light source was a large, dangling chandelier, that spilled a warm orange glow over every stone. There was a large rug in the middle of the room, too, with a Ravenclaw emblem on it.

Ms. Grant was the head of Ravenclaw house.

Max sat down in the chair across from Grant, and eyed up the mess on top of her desk.

Papers were skewed everywhere. Some of them in clean stacks, some in messier piles, some set hastily aside. Some letters, some files. Some of them yellowing, some still a pristine white. There was a small canister that held at least a dozen quills, and a vial of ink with a few drops spilled over the edge. Ink was stained on Grant’s fingers, too. It glittered orange in the light.

Max shifted nervously in her seat, and didn’t say a word.

After a long, long moment, Grant glanced up and smiled at her.

“Alright, that should be that,” she said, setting the paper aside and lacing her hands on her desk. “Now, you’re here about private tutoring, right Max?”

“Yes ma’am,” Max said softly.

“Alright. Well, first of all, tell me - what charms  _ can _ you cast? Successfully and consistently.”

Max blinked, and thought about it.

“...Uhm… the disarming charm, Expelliarmus. I’m good at that one.”

Grant nodded.

“Uh… I’m good at hexes! And curses,” Max added, giving her a proud smile.

Grant nodded again. “Anything else?”

“Uhm… no, just… just curses, hexes… I’m okay at jinxes, too, I guess… and Expelliarmus.”

Grant hummed thoughtfully under her breath.

“Alright, Max, I want you to try something for me,” Grant said. “The charm you were having trouble with today is the tap-dancing spell, correct?”

“Uh… yeah,” Max murmured.

“Try that on this paper,” Grant said, pushing a sealed letter towards her.

Max blinked.

“Uh…  _ Tarantallegra,” _ Max said, moving her wand in the odd, wobbly motion required.

The letter lit on fire.

Max yelped and scooched back. Grant raised her eyebrows silently.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Max chirped, whipping her wand towards the flame. “I… uhm… can’t do the water-making charm.”

Grant flicked her wand easily. The flame died.

Max sighed.

“...I’m really sorry,” she murmured.

Grant offered her a reassuring smile. “Nothing to be sorry about. This is how you learn. Now,”

Grant stood up, and walked around the desk.

“Try it on me.”

Max blinked.

“...Um… not to backtalk, ma’am, but… I don’t think that’s the best idea,” Max said.

Grant shrugged. “I can put myself out if you set me on fire.”

“Ma’am, I rea-”

“Max Caulfield.”

Max went silent.

“Do the tap-dancing jinx on me. Now,” Grant said.

Max took out her wand.

“... _ Tarantallegra,” _ she said, trying her very best to be precise with the wand movement and pulling away slightly as she did, ready for a shocked scream when Grant went alight.

But instead, Grant began to tap-dance.

Max blinked.

It wasn’t just any old tap-dancing, too. It was incredibly fast, incredibly  _ tiring _ tap-dancing. The kind of tap-dancing that might actually make you ineffective in a duel.

In other words - the jinx did exactly what it was meant to.

Grant pulled her wand out, and flicked it at her feet.

She stopped tap dancing instantly.

“Well? Care to explain what just happened, Max?” Grant said, glancing up at her.

Max floundered.

“Magic,” Grant said, walking back to her seat, “is all about  _ intent. _ If you do the right wand movement and the right incantation, but think the spell is going to do something other than what it’s meant to - it won’t work. So, Max, why is it that when you use the spell in the context it would actually be useful in - a duel - you perform perfectly, but when doing it on an inanimate object, you fail?”

Max fumbled for an answer.

“I… don’t know, ma’am,” Max muttered.

Grant didn’t respond, for a moment.

“...I’d like you to try something else for me, Max,” Grant said - and flicked her wand at the desks in the corner.

One of them floated in front of Max.

“Try a spell for me. The incantation is  _ Reducto. _ You have to move your wand in an upward slash,”

Grant slashed her own wand up slowly,

“And then a downward slash,”

Grant slashed down, like she was drawing a greater than sign.

“And then jab at where the slashes connect,” she said, jabbing at where the hypothetical crux of the greater than sign would be.

Max blinked.

“Do it at that desk, alright?  _ Reducto. _ The  _ re _ on the up slash,  _ duct _ on the down, and  _ o _ on the jab.  _ Re-duct-o.” _

Grant demonstrated the gesture and incantation slowly.

Max turned to the desk, and gathered her breath.

Put her wand in front of her.

_ “...Re-duct-o!” _

On the jab, a small ball of light burst out of the end of her wand, and carrened towards the desk.

It was one of the brightest spells she had ever cast. A golden white.

When it hit the desk, it made a noise like a firecracker going off - and a chunk of the desk was blown off.

Max gasped.

“Oh - oh my Lord, I - Ms. Grant, I am  _ so sorry, _ I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s meant to do that, Max.”

Max blinked.

Grant’s voice was quiet, and very thoughtful.

“...Oh.”

Grant waved her wand at the desk.  _ “Reparo.” _

The desk fit itself back together.

“...Max.”

“Yes, Ms. Grant?” Max said, glancing at her nervously.

“Your next tutoring session will be with Mr. Jefferson,” Grant said, glancing at her. “I’m not the kind of person that’s best at dealing with this type of issue.”

“Is… something wrong with me?” Max muttered, looking up at Grant pleadingly.

Grant didn’t respond for a moment.

“...That’s not for me to say,” she said eventually. “Talk to Professor Jefferson. He’s the expert.”

“Expert? On what?”

Grant didn’t answer.

“Ms. Grant?” Max prodded quietly. “What… what’s the problem? I don’t understand…”

“Of course you don’t, child,” Grant said, smiling reassuringly at her. “Jefferson will explain everything. Go on, now - there’s nothing more I can do for you. Go study. Jefferson will tutor you tomorrow.”

Max, slowly, began to walk towards the door.

_ Don’t I have a right to know? _

_ Grant has no right to keep this from me. _

_ Is there something wrong with me? _

_ What’s so special about Jefferson? _

“Goodbye, Ms. Grant,” Max muttered as she opened the door.

“Goodbye, Max,” Grant said, sitting behind her desk again.

_ I do fine in every other class. _

_ Why charms? Why conjuring spells? _

_ Why NOT curses, or hexes? _

**_...This isn’t fair._ **

That was the sentiment that struck her most strongly. That began to provoke a deep, bubbling anger in her.

**_This. Isn’t. Fair._ **

Her eyes prickled as she closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We shouldn't get that Jefferson tutoring chapter for a while, so uh. You're gonna have to deal with not knowing what's going on with Max.
> 
> Anyone have any guesses? Feel free to put them in the comments. Yes, I read comments, and I really appreciate all of them - I'm just *very bad* at responding to them. I've been putting in my best efforts to do so, but. ._.
> 
> Next chapter should be just a short review of the last class of the day, and then some shipping fodder. I'm excited for it.


	18. In An Hour Or Two

The last class of the day was Care, with the Ravenclaws. There was a new teacher - the groundskeeper from last year. They spent the class analyzing a baby acromantula that Mr. Jackson called ‘Webster,’ for no apparent reason. Brooke said, off-hand, that it sounded like a name Kate had come up with, and that she probably really loved Mr. Jackson by now.

By the end of the lesson, Brooke had deemed Mr. Jackson, ‘odd, but competent.’

That was it for the day. Well, there was still an astronomy lesson, but that was at midnight, so they had the  _ day _ off. Kate disappeared off into nowhere, saying cheerfully that she was going to hang with a ‘study buddy, or crony, or whatever!’ which sounded like nonsense to Max. Brooke went off to do… whatever the hell Brooke did whenever she wasn’t hanging out with them. Go to the library, probably.

Which left only the friend that had changed a lot over the Summer, and that Max really wanted to reconnect with, to talk to for the foreseeable future.

She found Chloe alone in the Gryffindor dorms.

This alone was a little odd. Chloe was usually hanging out with her three-person friend brigade - just like Max. Rachel - the pretty one, as Max had known her before they were properly introduced - and Steph - the nerdy one. But Chloe was alone, sitting in a Gryffindor armchair, staring silently into the fire.

Max did her best to shift so that she could see Chloe’s face, without Chloe seeing her.

She was… just staring blankly. Face a mask of unreadable emotion. Hands limp on the arms of the chair.

“...Chloe?”

Chloe blinked out of her trance, and glanced at Max - which led smoothly into a wide grin.

“Yo, Max,” she said easily, standing up. “What’s up? I was just sitting down for a sec. My last class was pretty exhausting.”

It had looked like more than ‘a sec,’ though Max didn’t say as much.

“You wanna… go walk around the grounds?” Max said, gesturing weakly to the door.

Chloe grinned. “Sure, dude. I was getting real tired of the red anyway.”

Max glanced around at the red drenched Gryffindor dorms.

“...Yeah,” she said. “They kinda overdid it, huh?”

_ “Way _ overdid it,” Chloe said, waltzing to the door while she talked. Max fumbled to follow her. “I mean, I like red as much as the next gal, but geez.”

“Geez,” Max agreed solemnly - and nearly hit herself for sounding so stupid.

Chloe snickered. “Let’s get outta here, dork.”

“M’not a dork,” Max muttered under her breath, before walking out the door.

Chloe snickered again.

* * *

Five minutes later, they were deep in conversation and thoroughly lost.

“No, it’s like, one of those kits you can get off the internet,” Chloe said, sticking her hands in her pockets. “Me and Steph put it together.”

A lot of this conversation kept steering back to Steph. Despite Chloe’s claim that she had a crush on Rachel, Max couldn’t help but wonder just how much that particular crush had  _ lasted. _ Maybe there were still remnants of it, but was it really an influencing decision on Chloe anymore?

And, instead, she seemed to be growing an obsession with  _ Steph. _

“I thought she was a pureblood, though?” Max said, keeping all those thoughts bottled and far in the back of her brain. “How much help was she putting together a muggle kit?”

“More help than you would think,” Chloe said. “She can sodder, apparently.”

Max blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah. She doesn’t look it, right? But apparently Steph is kind of a badass,” Chloe said, eyes glittering oddly. “No matter  _ how _ weird she is, you gotta respect that.”

“...I don’t like how she’s got this obsession with muggle stuff,” Max said - and her voice came out a little bit more firm than she had expected. “That’s kinda weird for a pureblood witch.”

Chloe blinked. “...I… guess it kinda is, but… what does that matter?”

“I dunno. I’m just saying, like,” Max said, hand fisting the bottom of her blazer and something heavy and thick bubbling in the pit of her stomach, “it’s kinda weird. She makes friends with a halfblood girl, and what, suddenly she’s all obsessed with muggle stuff? It’s… just a little weird, is all.”

Chloe seemed to chew on this for a moment.

“...Nah, I think Steph’s always been like that,” she said - and glanced at her. “Plus, who cares? What’re you getting at?”

“It just…” Max fumbled for the right way to phrase it. “Doesn’t it seem like she’s, just… like - it seems really convenient. That you’re her friend, and she’s leaning all over you at lunch yesterday, and she’s talking to you so much and bothering you - and  _ also _ she’s got a convenient love of muggle stuff?”

“What does any of this have to do with what she’s doing at lunch?” Chloe said - and paused. “Plus, she doesn’t  _ bother _ me. She’s kinda annoying now and again, but she’s my friend. And I don’t really mind the whole leaning over me thing - if she’s touch starved, I don’t mind helping her out. That’s what friends are for.”

“It seems more than just  _ friendly,” _ Max bit - and startled.

Her voice had come out very sharp, and oddly… venomous.

Chloe blinked.

Went very, very quiet.

“...Are you… suggesting Steph has a crush on me?”

Max didn’t respond - still reeling a little from her sudden lashing out. 

Chloe glanced at her. “Max? Do you - you don’t think Steph has a crush on me, right?”

“Well, I…”

Max chewed back on several choice statements that had burned at the back of her throat, for a moment.

“It kinda… seems like she might?” Max said hesitantly. “But like - you don’t have any of those feelings for her, obviously, so like, maybe I’m wrong, and besides it doesn’t really matter either way-”

“Wait,” Chloe said, holding a hand up. Max went silent. “Who… said I don’t have any of those feelings for her?”

Max blinked.

Chloe looked very, very deep in thought.

_ Wait, no, this - this wasn’t my plan, I don’t - I didn’t want to  _ get them together, _ I- _

Max blinked again - nearly startled by her own thoughts.

Since when had she had a  _ plan? _

SInce when had she not wanted Chloe and Steph to get together?

_ I… just think they wouldn’t work together. _

Yeah. Yeah, that seemed right. That seemed like something she would think. She wouldn’t want her bestie to get with someone she wouldn’t be happy with.

“Uhm… you  _ don’t, _ right?” Max muttered. “You have a crush on Rachel...?”

“Well, I mean,” Chloe said - and suddenly her voice was a little tighter than before. “I have a crush on Rachel, sure, but - Steph’s not the worst choice out there, if I was going to… you really think she might have a crush on me?”

Chloe glanced at her.

“...Uhm.”

“You think I should ask her out?” Chloe said - and glanced away from her, eyes drifting to the ceiling thoughtfully. “Hogsmeade visits are next weekend, I could ask her to go with me then - that would leave plenty of time for me to plan out things and get some decent clothes… but I should probably ask her ASAP, I don’t wanna start preparing and then have her say no, so - maybe I should ask her at dinner? I could probably learn the charm to make some flowers by then…”

“...Uhm,” Max said again, trying to not think about what she had just -  _ accidentally! _ \- done.

Suddenly, Chloe turned to her, and smiled.

“Thanks, dude,” she said easily, putting a hand on Max’s shoulder. Her stomach lurched. “You totally just got me a date opportunity.”

“...No problem,” Max just barely managed to say.

“Let’s get back to the dorms, huh? I gotta learn that flower charm,” Chloe said, already walking towards said dorms.

Max stared after her, for a moment - and very much  _ didn’t _ think about the nauseating bubbling in her stomach.

“...Yeah,” she said under her breath, walking after Chloe.

Who was going to ask Steph out. In an hour or two.

Max felt sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That moment when you get the person you have a gay crush on to ask out someone else. ._.
> 
> (I have done that myself. It isn't fun.)
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	19. So Why Aren't You Happy About It?

Steph Gingrich was a blood traitor.

Lots of people used that term. It was a fun term. ‘Blood traitor’. Totally metal. Imagine betraying your own blood. It would probably result in instant death.

It actually more meant betraying your proverbial blood. As in, your blood _status._ Blood traitors were purebloods who fraternized with muggles - or, depending on who you asked, any pureblood who didn’t want muggles dead. Under either of these definitions, Steph was a blood traitor. She interacted in a friendly fashion with any muggles, muggleborns or half bloods she met, and did not want any of them dead. At least, not yet.

Her family didn’t care, luckily. Not because they were supportive of muggles and muggle technology - but rather because she had a younger brother who would take up the family lineage instead. They would probably disown her the moment it wouldn’t produce a massive scandal - in other words, as soon as her younger brother hit his seventeenth birthday and became of age.

Steph was fine with this. Great, actually. Her family sucked pretty hard, so who gave a shit. She’d change her name the second she could.

Becoming obsessed with muggle things had, at one point, been a tactic of childish rebellion - but, as time went along, Steph realized that wizards and witches were… kind of stupid. And that muggles were… _less_ kind of stupid. If they could get along, then everyone would benefit. Wizardkind would bring magic to the muggles, and muggles would bring things like pens to wizardkind. Steph really wished she could use a pen in class - it was like a quill, but you didn’t have to dip it into ink every five seconds and chewing on it didn’t get feathers in your mouth. Genius.

Honestly, some things that muggles came up with baffled her still. Like those metal death boxes on wheels she saw over the Summer. What were they called? Caahres? The things muggles did to get past not having apparition…

Of course, there was also the fact that the entire philosophy her parents had about muggles being inferior was wrong, because she had seen literally no evidence that muggleborns and halfbloods were less powerful wizards than purebloods. And sure, muggles didn’t have magic - but they were getting surprisingly close nowadays. With things like the ‘phone,’ which Chloe had shown her on the train last year - oh, and trains were apparently invented by muggles, too. If phones weren’t magic, well. What was?

Chloe’s phone was a particularly interesting one - with a case that had a bisexual flag painted across it.

And having Chloe explain what a bisexual was might have been the most uplifting experience of Steph’s life. Mainly because it meant that Chloe _liked girls._ Which instantly improved her chances by about… well, not much, because nobody would want to date her anyway, but now they were better than _literally nothing._

Steph didn’t mind knowing that Chloe would never date her, though - because they were friends. And that was honestly enough for her. Sure, dating would be a really nice cherry on top, but she could live in the friend zone. Chloe was cool - Steph wasn’t going to risk her chances keeping her as a friend by asking her out. That would be incredibly stupid.

Still though. That knowledge didn’t make her kinda-crush go away.

Was it a crush? She didn’t get flustered around Chloe. But she definitely really liked Chloe. And liked touching her. And had some fond memories of Chloe walking out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Fond memories that she often reviewed while she was in the shower.

Well. Whatever it was that she had _for_ Chloe - she wasn’t going to let it risk what she had _with_ Chloe.

It was dinner time. Chloe, weirdly enough, was nowhere to be seen. So, instead, she had sat next to Rachel - and was occasionally taking some food off her plate. Rachel always got the best potato wedges, and it wasn’t Steph’s fault that she couldn’t keep track of them.

“Hey, Rachel,” she said - Rachel turned to her. “You don’t know where Chloe is, do you?”

“Steph?”

She blinked.

_...Speak of the devil, and she shall say your name in a weirdly anxious tone of voice, I guess._

Steph turned around - and was _completely_ unprepared for the image of a disheveled-looking Chloe with a handful of multicolour flowers, smiling widely at her.

“Wanna go out with me?”

Steph simply stared at her, for a long, long moment.

She heard Rachel snicker as Chloe’s smile wavered.

“...Rachel?”

“Yes, Steph?” Rachel said, tone sickly-sweet.

“Pinch me.”

Rachel leaned over and pinched her in the arm. _Hard._

She winced slightly - but then started beaming, because this _wasn’t_ a dream, and Chloe _was_ asking her out, and she had never known Chloe would look so cute with a handful of flowers.

“I’d love to!” she chirped - and pointed at the flowers. “Where did you get those?”

“Made them,” Chloe said, voice chock full of pride.

Steph blinked - and, weakly, collapsed against Rachel. “Oh Merlin that’s so adorable.”

Chloe went pink, and Steph nearly squealed.

“Uhm. Well, uh - Hogsmeade weekend?” Chloe said, and cleared her throat quietly. 

“That sounds great,” Steph said, doing her best to give Chloe a soft smile despite the burning urge to tease her until she turned into a puddle of blushing mush.

Chloe, instantly, pivoted on her heel - clearly desperate to hide her face and run away.

Steph didn’t say anything.

Her chest felt very full.

Rachel whistled slowly. “Wow. Never thought _she’d_ ask _you_ out.”

“...Me neither,” Steph said, with a wide smile.

Rachel glanced at her with a sharp eye. “...Oh no.”

She blinked. “What?”

“That’s a lovesick smile, hun,” Rachel said, spearing a grape on her fork. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up. School relationships don’t last.”

“Don’t care!” Steph chirped. “I’m too happy to worry about long-term consequences!”

Rachel pursed her lips silently. “...Hm.”

Steph blinked, and turned to her. “What’s up? That’s your ‘I don’t approve’ face.”

“No, I approve,” Rachel said, offering her a tiny smile. “It’s great.”

“Yeah! It is!” Steph said with a wide smile - and then let it drop away. “So why aren’t you happy about it?”

“Just… don’t you think it’s odd that Chloe’s asking you out _now?”_

Steph blinked. “What’s weird about now?”

“Well… just a year after her dad died, and all… she’s just in a bit of an unstable place right now, no?”

Something thick and sickening dripped into Steph’s stomach. “Are you saying-”

“I’m not saying anything!” Rachel said, instantly, raising both her hands. “Just putting a thought out there. I’m sure it’ll go great.”

Steph stared at her for another moment - and turned back to her food. Appetite gone, and happiness crippled.

She never saw the tiny smile that touched Rachel’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late, and a little shorter than usual. I'm sorry. I hope you enjoyed anyway.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	20. Oh, Sis

“Max!”

Max glanced up, and was met with the image of a widely smiling Chloe.

“Steph said yes!” she said - and her cheeks were flushed a light shade of pink, she was a little out of breath, her beanie was askew and the top button on her dress shirt was undone, so Max could catch a glimpse of her pale skin and sharp collarbone.

Max blatantly ignored the way her stomach turned, and did her best to smile. “That’s great, Chloe.”

“Hello all.”

Max glanced to the side - and let out a relieved breath when she saw Brooke. Not because she’d been worried about her, but because Brooke never provoked weird, bubbly feelings in her stomach - much less that sickening churning that was happening now.

“Brooke!” she chirped - Brooke raised both her eyebrows at the cheerful introduction.

“Max,” she said, before glancing at Chloe. “And company.”

Chloe offered Brooke a grin. “Hey, kid. Guess who’s got a date for the Hogsmeade visit?”

Brooke stuck her hands in her pockets, and raked her eyes up and down Chloe’s form, once. “Judging by your disheveled state, blush, and incredibly stupid looking smile - oh, I don’t know. Nathan Prescott?”

Chloe grimaced. “Ew, no. That little weasel couldn’t get a date if one was smashing his head into a wall. No - it’s totally me, kids!”

She did a loose pirouette, and began to saunter out of the room again. “If you don’t mind, I’ll leave ya’ll to it. I’ve gotta start thinkin’ about what to wear. Peace.”

She tipped them a last two-finger wave, and left.

Max sighed.

Brooke glanced at her.

For a long moment, she just stared - and then, slowly, pulled out the chair across from Max.

“Alright. Spill.”

Max blinked, and glanced up at her. “What?”

“You’ve got a kicked puppy expression,” Brooke said, raising an eyebrow at her. “It’s so obvious, even I noticed it. So, get to spilling. I’ve ranted enough at you over the years, it’s about time I returned the favor.”

Max shook her head, and gave her a smile. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. But thanks anyway.”

“Liar,” Brooke deadpanned, eyes sharp. “Come on. Fill me in.”

“It…” Max fumbled for a way to put Brooke off this trail. Because there really wasn’t anything to say.

  
Sure, Chloe was dating Steph now, and that made Max kinda sick for some reason, and sure, the new punk look on Chloe made her feel a little weird, and okay  _ maybe _ that little conversation they’d had day before yesterday about Chloe being gay was really weird and confusing and was kinda making Max think a lot about things she had never questioned before, like what it might feel like to run her hands through Chloe’s hair or what she looked like when she was sleeping in the dorms that were only a door away from Max’s own bedroom or what it sounded like when Chloe moaned-

But nothing was  _ wrong. _ Or  _ weird. _ Or anything that might suggest that this wasn’t just a weird little thing that would pass  _ really quickly _ and meant  _ nothing _ about her, or Chloe, or her and Chloe’s friendship.

“It’s just - I mean… okay, like, it’s not anything like what you’re probably thinking,” Max said quickly.

Brooke raised an eyebrow at her.

“I just - like, I don’t think Steph would really be a good girlfriend, y’know? She’s so… weird, and dorky, and. I just don’t think she’s right for Chloe, is all.”

Brooke just stared at her.

Max fidgeted. “What?”

Brooke didn’t say anything. Just stared.

Max shifted in her chair. “...Okay, and maybe I’ve also been having some weird feelings when Chloe’s around, but like, it’s nothing  _ important. _ It’s just. A phase, or something. It’ll go away.”

Brooke stared.

“...And like,” Max said, glancing away from Brooke and tugging at her hair, “I’ve also kinda been thinking a lot about this conversation me and Chloe had-”

“Chloe and I,” Brooke corrected softly.

“About this conversation Chloe and I had,” Max said, the words fumbling out of her, “where she asked me if I was gay - and, like, obviously I’m  _ not, _ but it’s kinda been messing with me a little - and like, at lunch today, I couldn’t help but notice that Chloe kinda licks the corner of her lips a little whenever she finishes eating something, and she taps her fork or spoon or whatever whenever she puts it down and stares at it like she’s trying to tell it to stay there or something, and she kinda, like, does this little thing with her nose whenever she’s confused, and it’s not quite a wiggle but it’s really subtle and - and I almost can’t believe I haven’t noticed any of this before, because she’s my best friend and all, but I’m only just starting to really pay attention and notice these things, y’know?”

Brooke didn’t say anything.

“And okay, _ yeah,” _ Max bit out, “maybe I’ve kinda been having these weird feelings whenever she gives me a smile in the hallway - but that’s normal for friends. It just makes me feel nice that she’s happy to see me. That's how friends feel, right?”

Brooke didn’t say anything.

“And also I noticed this stain on her neck after a potions class,” Max said, “and I told her about it but I almost kinda didn’t want to because it looked really good in a weird way that kinda made me want to not see it but also, like, keep it there forever? Or something?”

Brooke didn’t say anything.   
  


“...And also I kinda wanted to kiss her the other day,” Max muttered quietly, gripping the bottom of her dress shirt. “But that’s. I’m just confused. It’ll go away.”

Brooke leaned over and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, sis,” she said quietly - Max almost startled, because Brooke calling someone  _ sis _ was really weird.

Brooke stood up, and silently patted her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

Max stared at her. “What? There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

Brooke just shook her head - and walked away.

Max stared after her, and was unable to shake the feeling that Brooke knew something very, very important about her that she didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little late again. A little short again. I've finally started to shift my focus a little to some other stories, so be warned - the chapter a day schedule might be in jeopardy. I'll try to get a longer chapter out early tomorrow, but after that. Well. The schedule might shift to every other day.
> 
> But this chapter was pretty easy to write. Mainly because gay panic comes naturally to me.
> 
> Next chapter will have to be a bit of a treat though. A good send off to the chapter a day schedule. And I know just what to write.
> 
> Happy Saturday!
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	21. Get Over Yourself

“Study buddies!”

Victoria sneered. “Study associates at best, Marsh.”

“Study cronies!” Kate chirped, even louder this time - which earned her a  _ shh! _ from the librarian.

They were sitting at a table far in the back corner of the library. Well, the back corner of the not-restricted section, anyway. Victoria had a stack of astronomy books next to her, and Kate had a binder, two notepads and a single wide, thin booklet.

“Sorry!” Kate whispered - the librarian gave her a last glare before walking away.

“That was fast,” Victoria said, propping her head against her hand and wishing that she had never decided to do this. “You didn’t last twelve seconds before getting shushed.”

“I’m excited!” Kate chirped, only a little quieter. “This is gonna be so much fun!”

“This is going to be torture,” Victoria said, voice deadly flat as she shifted her stack to the side. “Now, we should establish some kind of schedule for these meets. I think every other day should be  _ more _ than enough. We’ll switch our topic of focus with every meeting. We’ll do astronomy first-”

“What? Why?” Kate said, smile falling.

“Because it’s far more interesting, and I said so,” Victoria said. “Now, as I w-”

“But don’t you need help with Care?” Kate said, voice rapidly losing any hint of cheer. “I thought we were hanging out to help you?”

_ “No, _ we are not,” Victoria hissed - Kate shifted back in her seat at the sudden, unexpected venom in her voice. “We are in a  _ mutually beneficial _ study relationship.  _ That’s how deals work.” _

There was a moment of profound quiet.

“Now,” Victoria said, straightening again and adjusting her tie, “we’ll cover astronomy first. It would be best to-”

“But I thought we were study  _ partners,” _ Kate said - Victoria made a noise of barely-repressed anger. “I should get a say in this, right?”

Victoria, for a moment, looked close to strangling her.

And then, she deflated - and her eyes went dead blank as she balanced her head against her palm.

“...Alright. Fine. Have your say.”

Kate blinked.

“Uh… Victoria? I didn’t upset you, did I?” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Firstly, it’s Chase,” Victoria said, baring her teeth slightly. “Secondly, we  _ are not friends. _ Upsetting me is not a concern. I do not get  _ upset _ because of people I  _ despise. _ I get angry. I get malicious. I don’t get  _ sad. _ So, have your say, and then I’ll have my say. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“...I wanted to help you out,” Kate said softly. “I wanna do Care first because it’s the subject you have trouble with.”

_ “...What?” _ Victoria said - and, between the thick droplets of venomous malice, genuine confusion seeped from her voice. “This isn’t -  _ what?” _

Kate blinked.

“This isn’t a _friendship,”_ Victoria said, expression shifting rapidly from angry, to confused, to dead blank. “This isn’t an association where we want to _help each other out._ You’re a mudblood Hufflepuff. I’m a purebred Slytherin. We don’t _help each other out._ _You_ help _me_ out, because you get something out of it. That’s how associations between enemies _work._ So what the hell are you talking about?”

Kate stared at her silently, for a long, long moment.

“...Is that how you think of yourself?”

“What?” Victoria said.

“Purebred?” Kate said, voice soft and thick. “Is that what families like yours do?  _ Breed _ people?”

  
Something very strange touched the bottom of Victoria’s stomach.

“That’s not - why are you focusing on  _ that?” _ she said - quickly stamping out the strange note in her voice with a malicious sneer.

“Because it’s the important part of what you said,” Kate said, voice matter-of-fact. “All the rest was just Slytherin stuff.”

“I - you -  _ what?” _

Kate shifted her tie a little, and rolled her nails once against the desk. “That was all just Slytherin stuff.  _ Oh, I can’t have friends because I’m Slytherin. Oh, none of my relationships can be healthy and positive because I’m Slytherin. Look at me, so edgy and reserved.  _ Yes, Victoria, you’re very mature, and we all think you are very powerful and in-control. But please get over yourself. Because I like you! And I’d like to be friends.”

“Wha-- that’s not-- I’m not-”

“So we’ll do Care first?” Kate said with a sweet smile. “Let’s talk about nifflers! They’re really cute, even if I have to take off my rings whenever I wanna pet one. They’re on the fifth page of my binder…”

And that was how Kate took over all of their subsequent studying sessions.

_ Dear diary, _

_ The first study session with Victoria went really well! She only called me a mudblood 4 times, and she sneers a lot less when she’s focused on work! She’s really smart, too, even if she’s kinda bad at showing it. _

_ I think the only reason she has a bad Care grade is because of the practical work. Maybe I should get her a pet! Or let her pet Alice. _

_ Oh, yeah, Alice is doing really great too! She’s gotten a lot less nervous since I got her, and after meeting everyone on the train she seems to really like Max! Brooke’s always really nervous around her, though. _

_ Brooke’s been kinda weird in general recently. I talked to Max about it on the walk up to Hogwarts our first day back, but she wasn’t really much help. She kinda just said I should let this play its course. I wish I could help her, though. _

_ Max kinda acted a little weird too. Ever since I got back from my study session with Victoria, she’s been really quiet and thoughtful. Even more so than usual. I asked her what was up, and she said that nothing was wrong, but when I asked Brooke, she said that Max just had to ‘figure herself out.’ Whatever that means. _

_ I hope my friends are okay. _

_ Dearest diary, _

_ I’m back. Again. The string of annoying thoughts never end. _

_ Max is gay, apparently, though she hasn’t quite come to that conclusion herself yet. And she’s got a crush on her best friend. Who just got herself a date. Real horrible situation. Unfortunate that it had to happen to Max. _

_ Kate’s invited me to go visit ‘Webster.’ That also happens to be what Mr. Jackson called the acromantula he showed all of us. This detail alarms me slightly. _

_ Other than that, not much has happened. Steph asked Chloe out on a date. I have no doubt she’ll be coming to either Rachel or myself for fashion advice soon. Steph, not Chloe. Chloe will go to Max for advice. _

_ Steph is quite likable, and one of the two people I have a good relationship with who I am not attracted to. Which makes her a good sounding board, and study partner. _

_ Max apparently dueled Nathan Prescott. And won. Well, she says that neither of them won, but Prescott broke the rules, so I consider it an automatic win for Max. I’m quite proud of her. And curious about how she did it. _

_ Outside of sexuality crises, Max also seems to have something else on her mind. Well, I haven’t noticed this, but Kate confronted me about Max in general - something about her being ‘more thoughtful than usual.’ I pinned the blame on the sexuality crisis at first, but Kate also mentioned something about her seeming… off, ever since the welcoming feast. _

_ And I must confess, she’s right. I’ve been a little suspicious myself. Her schedule was drawn up wrong, she seems to forget things a lot more, and just today I went back to get something she’d apparently left behind in class, only for it to not be there at all. It’s possible that it really was just at the bottom of her bag like she said, but… _

_ Perhaps it’s nothing. _

_ But then again - perhaps it’s something. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling burnt out? Can't do a proper POV chapter? Want to communicate a character's thoughts and intentions without actually writing them acting in any way?
> 
> Diary Entries! The only method that solves all your writer's block problems.
> 
> From here on out the schedule is changing from every day to every other day. So uh, don't expect a chapter tomorrow. Cool? Cool.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	22. How Are You Holding Up?

“Welcome back, students.”

Hoida smiled at all of them.

Max’s first class of the day was Transfiguration. Well, technically, her first  _ classes _ of the day were Transfiguration and a double Herbology block with Brooke, but Transfiguration was the one she was doing right now. With the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. She was the only Gryffindor - because time travel shenanigans meant that she had to attend classes that the other Gryffindors didn’t. 

“Pair up!”

Max blinked - and glanced to her side, at Kate.

Kate smiled and gave her a thumbs-up.

Max returned it.

“Ah, no, wait, all of you,” Hoida said - the students that were shuffling about to find their friends stopped. “I’ve assigned you all partners.”

There was a chorus of groans - and Hoida peered sharply at all of them.

“I don’t want to hear you complaining,” she said - everyone went quiet. When she wanted to, Hoida could command a room. “This is your own fault. Last time, when I let you all choose your own partners, you nearly destroyed this classroom. This is what happens when you choose someone you’ll make trouble with. So - Trevor Adams with Luke Parker.”

She rattled off name after name. Max listened anxiously for her own.

“Max Caulfield, with Nathan Prescott,”

_ Oh no. _

Max glanced to her right - and Prescott was already looking at her.

She waved weakly.

Prescott scowled, and turned away.

Kate patted her shoulder sympathetically.

“Kate Marsh, with Taylor Christensen,”

That made Kate smile, and turn to Taylor - who was another Hufflepuff.

Max stared blankly at her table, and wished the ground would swallow her whole.

* * *

“We’ll be starting off with a pretty easy assignment, to get you back on your feet after the Summer. Turn your button into a needle.”

Nathan and Caulfield were sitting at the same table. Which was… 

Awful, first of all. It was  _ awful. _ Caulfield was an absolutely imbecilic lowlife mudblood who didn’t deserve to look him in the eye, much less be  _ partnered _ with him. And, of course, the DADA incident still burned in his chest.

Little mudblood whore, dueling  _ him, _ dodging  _ his _ spell, getting him in trouble - with  _ Mr. Jefferson, _ no less…

He sneered.

Caulfield glanced up at him, and instantly darted her gaze back down when she saw him scowling at her.

And the worst thing was -  _ she was filling his headspace. _

Between little reminders from the back of his brain that it seemed about time to take his potions, and darting thoughts about Victoria, all he’d be thinking about was Max  _ fucking mudblood _ Caulfield.

And the way she’d dodged his spell.

And the way she’d counterattacked.

Jefferson’s glare had burned a hole into his skull that still itched now.

His nails scraped against the edge of the desk as he pulled out his wand, and flicked it at his button.

_ “Acuiteloce,” _ he muttered.

Nothing happened.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

He glanced sharply to his side - where Max Caulfield was watching him, button already transfigured into a needle in front of her.

Caulfield floundered slightly when he scowled at her.

“Uhm-”

“I don’t need your help, _mudblood,”_ he said with a sharp scowl.

For a brief,  _ brief _ moment - something deadly sharp flashed in Caulfield’s eyes.

And then it vanished.

“Okay,” she muttered, looking down at her desk again. “Sorry.”

He stared at her for a moment longer - and then turned back to his button to try again.

He made no headway. 

By the end of class, his button had sharpened slightly on its end. Hoida gave Caulfield five points for her needle - and pursed her lips when she saw Nathan’s nearly untouched button.

“I expect better work than this in the future, Mr. Prescott,” she said, glancing up to peer at his eyes.

A bubbling instinct told him to scowl at her - to tell her that  _ he _ was the pureblood here, he was going to have enough to fucking  _ buy _ her once Father died.

He didn’t. Instead, he simply said, ‘yes ma’am,’ while giving her a glare that bubbled fiercely.

“Oh, and Max, stay behind after class, please,” Hoida added, giving Caulfield a smile.

Nathan decided as he left the classroom that he wasn’t going to think about Caulfield again. All day.

He spent most of the rest of the day dedicatedly  _ not _ thinking about her.

* * *

“Max.”

Max gave Hoida a hesitant glance.

Hoida smiled, and gestured for her to sit down.

The classroom was very barren, when it was empty. The desks lined up without any students to occupy them. The windows spilling in a soft morning light.

Hoida’s desk was nearly empty, except for a stack of papers, a quill inside a canister of ink, an apple-shaped paperweight, and a small closed container that was presumably for her glasses.

“Are you going to talk to me about the time turner again, ma’am?” Max said, feeling a little more bold than usual - especially with the soft simmering anger that was still in her throat after sitting next to Prescott for so long.

Hoida raised her eyebrows.

“...No, actually.”

Max blinked.

There was a moment of quiet.

“How are you doing, Max?” Hoida said, folding her hands on the desk.

Max blinked again. “...Huh?”

“How are you?” Hoida repeated. “I wanted to check in. That much studying can’t be great. So - how are you holding up?”

“Uhm…”

How  _ was _ Max holding up?

On the one hand, there was the time turner. Despite Bowers’s words, Max felt less and less scared of it every hour it was around her neck. After using it once, and facing no consequences, she couldn’t help but feel a lot less anxious and scared about owning it.

On the other hand, there was Brooke, and her obvious suspicions about Max already.

There was Jefferson, who was the first decent DADA teacher they’d ever had.

But there were also the tutoring sessions, and the one she had to take with Jefferson later today for… some reason Max apparently wasn’t  _ allowed _ to be privy to yet.

And then there was… Chloe.

So, between all that, Max hadn’t really had time to think about  _ how she was holding up. _

Well, compared to the situation around her… pretty well, she supposed. All things considered.

“Ms. Hoida… would it be okay if I asked you a question?”

Hoida, after a moment, nodded. “Of course, Max.”

“Are you… straight?”

Hoida blinked. “...Like, sexually?”

Max blushed, but nodded.

“...Max, you aren’t…  _ hitting on me, _ right?”

Max turned a fiery red, and instantly began shaking her head vigorously. “No - nonono. No.  _ No. _ No, I just… I was just curious, ma’am.”

Hoida let out a relieved sigh, and smiled at her. “Good. Because you’re a really great student, Max, and I would  _ hate _ it if you had some wildly inappropriate crush on me.”

“No, ma’am - I  _ promise _ you, I don’t,” Max said.

“Well, to answer your question - no. I’m not.”

Max’s eyes widened. “You’re gay?”

Hoida smiled softly. “There’s more than just gay and straight, Max.”

“You’re bisexual?” Max said, eyes widening a little more. Hoida laughed.

“No, Max, I’m not.”

“...Oh,” Max said, softly. “Then… what are you?”

“Asexual,” Hoida said. “I’m not attracted to anyone in a sexual way. I guess you never noticed my pride pins.”

Max blinked. “Your what?”

Hoida turned the cuff of her sleeve around - and showed her four small cufflinks, coloured black, grey, white, and purple respectively.

“Those are the colours of the asexual pride flag,” Hoida said, smiling down at the cufflinks. “I bought them when I was nineteen. And dumb.  _ Really _ dumb. Still treasure them, though, even if they got people telling me that my sexuality doesn't exist every now and again.”

Max blinked again. “...What?”

“Yeah, some people don’t think asexuality is real,” Hoida said, voice turning from nostalgic to blank in a moment.

“But… surely you would know better than them?” Max said, furrowing her brow. “How would they know if it was real?”

“They wouldn’t,” Hoida said simply.

“Then who are they to decide it isn’t?” Max asked, genuinely confused.

“Nobody,” Hoida said, sighing. “But some people feel that they’re entitled to things that they aren’t, and know things that they don’t. It’s part of being human - having people hate you for who you are. You know what that’s like - being a muggleborn and all.”

“But… at least people acknowledge muggleborns  _ exist,” _ Max said, looking down at Hoida’s desk and trying to sift through this new information. “I don’t understand how anyone could decide a whole sexuality just… isn’t real.”

Hoida sighed again.

And then smiled.

“That’s why your generation will do better, Max,” Hoida said. “...But we weren’t talking about me. What does this have to do with you?”

“I… well, uh… how did you know you were asexual?” Max said, looking up at her.

Hoida’s eyes glittered with comprehension, for a moment, before she answered. “Well… I guess it started when all my friends were talking about people they were attracted to. And my parents kept trying to get me with this guy, too - God, he was the worst…”

Max stared at Hoida. Hoida shook her head slightly.

“Right, anyway. It wasn’t really a… lightning bolt revelation. It creeped up on me. Eventually, I just had to acknowledge that little thought at the back of my head - that kept asking if I might not be attracted to people. At least, not the same way that my friends were. I didn’t really  _ realize _ it, or  _ figure it out _ \- I just… acknowledged it. The thought had been there for a while - the creeping suspicion. I just had to let it out of the shadows, and… let myself be who I was.”

“...Huh,” Max said, quietly.

“Why do you ask?” Hoida said.

“Well…”

Max cracked.

“Okay, so, I’ve got this friend, Chloe, and she’s been like my best bestie for a long while now, but recently like, she told me that she’s gay and asked if I was, and I said no, duh, but like, then she put her hand on my shoulder and smiled at me in this really soft way that kinda made my stomach turn, and now she’s asking out this friend of her’s and I thought I didn’t want that because I didn’t think they’d be a good match up but now I’m kinda thinking maybe it’s not really that? And I’m just really confused and kinda sick a lot of the time now.”

Hoida stared at her.

Max let out a breath. “...Sorry.”

“For what?” Hoida said.

“For ranting at you like that.”

Hoida smiled. “Well, I wouldn’t really call it a  _ rant. _ More a… string of projectile word vomit.”

Max snorted.

“...Max.”

Max glanced up. “Yeah?”

“Do you want my advice? Or did you just want to talk?” Hoida said softly.

“I’d… like some advice,” Max said. It felt good to admit.

“...Well, first of all - hun, you’re  _ so _ gay,” Hoida said with a sharp eye.

Max sighed. “...Yeah. I kinda… figured.”

Hoida nodded. “Good. But, honestly, with this crush - if Chloe’s already dating someone else… you might wanna try to move on, Max. She’s your friend, and that’s great, but she’s unavailable.”

“...Yeah,” Max said again, softer this time.

“...I’m sorry, Max,” Hoida said quietly. “I know crushes suck. Especially first crushes. But it sounds like this one’s not gonna work out. And it’ll go away, if you let it.”

“Okay,” Max said. “Thanks, Miss Hoida.”

“Don’t thank me, Max,” Hoida said. “Just doing my job. And don’t get hung up on Chloe, okay? I’m sure you’ll end up falling head-over-heels for someone later down the road. I know first crushes seem really bad, but I know you’ll meet someone really great, Max. You deserve it.”

Max smiled. “Thanks, Miss Hoida.”

Hoida smiled. “Didn’t I just tell you not to thank me?”

Max giggled. “Okay, Miss Hoida.”

“Get outta here, you little rascal,” Hoida said, jerking her thumb towards the door.

Max stood up, and walked out of the classroom. She heard Hoida call, ‘Stay safe, make good choices!’ after her.

She felt the tiniest bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, uhm, a few things.
> 
> First, this is the official new schedule. Chapter every other day. It means you can start getting 2k word chapters, again, too. And hopefully anyone that's behind can start catching up, if I've been publishing too fast here.
> 
> Secondly, I'm not asexual, so if I messed anything up or got something wrong, please fill me in. I did my best, but people make mistakes, so. Please help me out if I messed something up really badly.
> 
> Also, writing Nathan is really, *really* hard. I hope I didn't butcher him too badly.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	23. Avada Kedavra

Max had to turn back time to attend her double herbology block, with the Ravenclaws. And then she had tutoring.

With Mr. Jefferson, now, she supposed.

When she entered the familiar, nearly-empty classroom, Jefferson was sitting at the desk. His eyes glittered quietly in the darkness.

  
The room was lit by a single lantern on Jefferson’s desk. The orange rays played against his sharp cheekbones and waxy skin.

He glanced up.

For a moment - a short, fragile, barely-there moment - something about his expression sat wrong in Max’s stomach, and caused something deeply unsettling to tug at her gut.

And then, he smiled - and that oddly inhuman quality to his glittering eyes vanished, as did the feeling in Max’s stomach.

The next moment, Max had forgotten about it entirely, instead focused on the anxiety bubbling in her gut.

“Mr. Jefferson?” she said, softly. “Ms. Grant told me to take my tutoring sessions with you?”

“Ah. Yes, she spoke to me about you,” Jefferson said, adjusting his glasses. The light glinted off them. “Why don’t you demonstrate something for me, Maxine?”

“Uhm… Max,” she said. “It’s Max, sir.”

“Oh. I’m terribly sorry, Max,” Jefferson said.

“It’s okay, sir.”

“Well,  _ Max, _ I’d like you to demonstrate something for me, please,” Jefferson said, standing up. The low light played off his face in an odd way, that cast shadows over his eyes.

“What would you like me to do, sir?” Max said, pulling out her wand.

“A curse,” Jefferson said. An odd light glittered in his eyes. “I have a theory about you, Max, and this would confirm it. Now,”

Jefferson pulled out his own wand, and flicked it into the corner of a room.

The clattering noise of a cage bulleting towards them made Max startle, and Jefferson smile.

Once it was in front of them, Max could see well enough to notice a plant inside the cage.

“The incantation is  _ Avada Kedavra,” _ Jefferson said - Max’s eyes popped open. “There is no required wand mo-”

“Sir, that - that’s an  _ unforgivable!” _ Max said, turning to him with wide, shocked eyes.

Jefferson looked right back at her, eyes deadly flat. “It’s a  _ spell, _ Max. It is a  _ tool. _ It is to be applied as the caster wishes. It is unforgivable  _ if used on people _ \- but this plant is a killer, Max. It has no useful purposes, and will strangle anything that approaches it. It was found in the grounds, and needs to be killed. The most effective way to do so is the killing curse. Now, as I was saying, th-”

“Sir, I - I  _ can’t-” _

_ “Do not. Interrupt. Me,” _ Jefferson bit, eyes ice-cold. 

Max went silent in an instant.

“Now,” Jefferson said, voice calm again, “there is no required wand movement - just a strong jab should do it. Go ahead, give it a shot.”

“...Sir, I… I’m really not sure about this,” Max said, very quietly and very hesitantly. “It seems… wrong.”

“It’s a plant, Max,” Jefferson said. His voice was softer now, though. “You aren’t going to go to hell for killing it, and I need to test this theory. The caretaker told me to kill it when I was done, anyway. It’s going to die no matter what. There’s nothing wrong about it.”

Max made a tiny, unsure noise.

“Try the curse, Max,” Jefferson said, backing up a step. “I believe in you.”

Max - despite a certain amount of hesitance - raised her wand.

_ “...A-avada-” _

**_. . ._ **

_ It was a cold night. The air bit at her heels gently. She should’ve put on shoes - but the cold felt good on her skin. _

_ Blood dripped from her nose and onto the grass. She still hadn’t bandaged her split lip, or put ice on her black eye. _

_ The stars glittered against the black skyline. _

**_. . ._ **

_ “-Kedavra!” _

Something  _ changed _ in her voice.

And the bolt of bright, piercing green lit up the classroom.

It was silent. Not like most spells, which came with a noise like the swoop of a bird, or a gentle breeze. This one was completely, dead silent. When it touched the plant, it didn’t recoil, or retract - just… absorbed it.

And then the leaves turned brown on their ends. The stem drooped.

The plant died. Before her very eyes - just like that - it just…

Died.

Jefferson, silently, raised his eyebrows - and then, let out a slow, quiet breath.

“...I believe you’re a dark witch, Max,” he said, with quiet gravity.

Max startled. “H-huh?”

“You’re a dark witch,” Jefferson repeated, turning to her. “You have a proficiency for dark magic.”

“But - but I’m not-”

“Evil?” Jefferson said, raising an eyebrow.

Max nodded.

“I know you aren’t,” Jefferson said, leaning back against his desk. “After all - I’m a dark wizard myself, and I’m not evil.”

“You… you  _ are?” _ Max said, staring. Not the least of which because she was shocked that Hogwarts had hired a dark wizard - especially in  _ defence against the dark arts _ class.

“Yes, I am,” Jefferson said, sounding resigned to the fact. “I learned when I was very young. Right after coming to Hogwarts. And I had the same problem as you - the only charms I could manage consistently were curses. I was great at Transfiguration - because Transfiguration is sacrificial magic. You sacrifice the thing you’re transfiguring for what you’re making it into. That doesn’t mean I’m evil, Max - and it doesn’t mean you’re evil, either. It doesn’t mean anything. Dark magic is a legal classification, not a moral one. It doesn’t make you more or less  _ good. _ But it does mean you’re going to have some trouble in your charms classes. Light magic will come hard to you, and even if you manage to cast it, it will be…  _ diminished, _ for lack of a better word. It will make people see you badly, too, which is why I suggest you do your best to hide this information. You will be prejudiced against for being a dark magician.”

Suddenly, Jefferson turned to her - and something glittered in his near-black eyes.

“What  _ I’m _ curious about - is why a  _ muggleborn _ witch would have a proficiency for dark magic. After all - magical proficiencies and preferences are genetic. Perhaps… you could enlighten me, Max?”

Max, after a moment, shook her head. “I… don’t know, sir.”

“Please, Max,” he said, smiling softly at her, “Mark is fine. After all - we’re going to be spending a lot of tutoring sessions together from now on. And, most of all, you’ll carry on the legacy of dark magic, Max. And I expect you to do it well. Max,”

He straightened.

“From now on, you will be my protege,” he said, adjusting his glasses, grin sharpening. “I expect you to stay after every class, and update me on your progress. And these tutoring sessions will be split into two types - tutoring you in being able to do light magic, and improving your dark magic. You won’t let me down.”

He didn’t phrase this as a question - but rather, as a fact.

“And Max,” he said, looking quietly down at her. “If I ask you a question, I want you to tell me the truth. It won’t leave this room, I promise you - but you will not hide things from me. Understand?”

“...Yes, sir,” she said - not entirely sure how to feel about this development.

Jefferson. Her mentor.

Jefferson, the dueling champion. Her mentor.

...Jefferson, who, apparently… was a dark magician.

...Just like her.

“Mark,” he corrected softly, smiling.

“...Okay…  _ Mark,” _ she said. The word felt very odd on her tongue.

“In class, you’ll still refer to me as Mr. Jefferson, of course,” he said, voice matter-of-fact. “But in these sessions, I prefer a… less official dynamic. Mark would be fine. You might be my protege, Max, but I want to have an open relationship with you. That’s why I told you I’m a dark wizard. From now on - nothing but the truth between us. Alright?”

“Alright,” she said, nodding. Resolve firming.

She could work with this. Even if it felt a little odd, now - being taught to be a better witch by an expert like Jefferson would help her  _ immensely. _

And having an informal relationship would be… weird, definitely, but. She’d hold off judgement until she knew him better.

“Now, first lesson,” he said - and his eyes glinted oddly again. “That killing curse was atrocious. It hardly would’ve caused a twinge in anything more alive than a weed. It’s a very hard spell, but a great base for things to come. So - try again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing to say. Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


	24. So Be It

Lunch was a simple affair for Max. She didn’t talk at all through it, instead letting Steph and Chloe head the conversation. Every once in a while, Kate would glance at her in a slightly concerned way. Max ignored it.

And then she and Kate had a runes class. Which was pretty boring, this time. Well, as boring as any class taught by Mr. Keaton could be. There wasn’t a practical lesson this time. Just a long,  _ long _ lecture.

And then a free block, which Max took to study Arithmancy. Her head was starting to hurt ten minutes in. By the end of the hour, the letters on the page were blurring and she felt like her brain was going to slip out of her ears.

Her mind wasn’t focused at all when she went to Divination class. She started recording notes - when she glanced down, she had absentmindedly jotted some random text in the margins of her notes. Chloe and Jefferson’s names, a spinning time turner, and the word ‘date’ over and over again. She wasn’t sure if it was the romantic kind, or the day of the month kind.

And that was the end of classes.

The rest of the day just… went by. Max felt like she was just going through the motions. Now she was eating. Now she was studying. Now she was talking to friends.

Going through the motions.

Her thumb tapped the top of her table erratically.

“Maxxie?”

She glanced up.

Chloe was standing in front of her, looking down with thinly-veiled concern.

“You alright?”

“Yep!” she said, instantly and instinctually.

Chloe silently raised her eyebrows. “Really? Because you didn’t have any chocolate eclair today. And I know it’s your favorite.”   


“I wasn’t very hungry,” Max said, doing her best to smile. It felt wrong on her face.

Chloe stared at her silently.

“Well… okay,” she said eventually, peering at Max. “Just - if you need anything, you can come to me.”

“Okay,” Max said, giving Chloe a thumbs up and smiling a little bit wider.

Chloe, after a moment, leaned over to gently push on her shoulder with her fist, in an approximation of a punch. “Stay cool, Maxi-Pad.”

“Will do, cap’n,” she said.

And Chloe left.

Something deep in Max’s stomach unravelled the moment Chloe was gone. She let out a breath - and a tightness in her chest softened.

She was attracted to Chloe.

She was a dark witch.

She was a time traveler.

...Just three days ago, everything had been normal.

And now...

  
  
  
  
  


Now.

  
  
  
  
  


She could barely think. Barely manage coherency.

She was unravelling.

Her hand gripped her wand with startling accuracy, and gently pulled it out of her pocket.

_ “...Avada Kedavra,” _ she murmured under her breath, pointing her wand at the ground.

The bright green spell touched something deep inside her.

Her head fell back. Her eyes closed.

The killing curse.

An unforgivable.

But…

It felt  _ very _ good to cast.

_ (Dark magic isn’t a moral classification. Just a legal one.) _

She flipped her wand casually in her hand, and wondered just when everything in her life had become so… disjointed.

* * *

“So - this is Webster!”

Brooke stared.

“Kate… that is an acromantula,” she said, voice long-suffering.

“I know! Isn’t he pretty?” she cooed, glancing at Webster and smiling.

“He… hm,” Brooke said, kneeling. “I suppose he’s… not the ugliest thing in the world. He’s certainly got nice eyes.”

Webster gently tilted his head, pincers clicking.

“Can he understand me?” Brooke said, unsure whether to be concerned or not.

Kate shrugged. “I dunno. But I act like he can, just in case! I wouldn’t want to be rude. How about it Webster - can you understand us?”

Webster didn’t react.

Brooke hummed thoughtfully under her breath.

“...Well,” she said, standing, “he’s certainly something. But we should get going. Dinner is going to start in just a few minutes.”

“I’ll catch up with you,” Kate said, waving her off. “I wanna spend a little more time with Webster. Maybe draw him! Bring us back some food, would you?”

Brooke wasn’t sure whether to be concerned by the  _ us _ label or not.

* * *

The next day was pretty standard. Well - pretty standard for everyone who didn’t have to time travel.

Brooke woke up to the promising proposition of a potions block. Bowers was in a very tired mood - which meant getting him angry was a risky move, but until then he was fairly calm. And then she had a double History block with Max, who looked… out of it, for most of the lesson.

It was only after noticing this that she also noticed that Max didn’t say a word during lunch. 

Her first Transfiguration block of the year was with Kate, who said that Max had attended her last Transfiguration class. When asked which block it was, Kate  _ swore _ it had been first block yesterday - despite the fact that Max had attended a Herbology class with Brooke during that block. Brooke remembered it distinctly, because they had been harvesting bubotuber pus, and Max had nearly gotten a faceful at some point. Which had been very concerning, because it would’ve sent her straight to the hospital wing.

During their classes, they didn’t have the chance to see Max attending her DADA block, and doing very well indeed. The curse Jefferson had given them for that class to learn had come very easily to Max.

They also didn’t get to see Nathan Prescott glancing up at Max every now and again.

They  _ did _ get to try the curse themselves in their very next block, which happened to be DADA. Once again, it was just Kate and Brooke, which meant they didn’t have a chance to talk to Max. 

The curse they were assigned was incredibly hard for both of them. By the end of class, Brooke had managed it once on what seemed like a fluke - which was about one time more than most of the other students could say. Most of them hadn’t even managed to get a spell that fizzled out.

And then -  _ finally _ \- the day was over. And Brooke and Kate could talk to Max about what was wrong.

Except, apparently, they couldn’t.

“I’m  _ really _ sorry!” Kate said - and she really did look sorry. “But I almost forgot, I have a study session with a friend that I really can’t afford to not attend.”

“And this study session is more important than talking to Max?” Brooke said, raising an eyebrow.

Kate floundered. “Uhm… no, all of my friends are equally important! But missing a session with this particular friend could really mess up our whole relationship, so…”

“Kate, I don’t think you understand,” Brooke said - and did her best to make the words sharp and confident when she said,  _ “I, can’t, do, this, without, you. _ I just don’t have the weird… friendship-sense thing that you have. Opening up to me would be like… spilling your life story to a Vulcan.”

Kate blinked. “...You know Star Trek?”

“Yes, I do,” Brooke said, “but that’s not the point. The point is, if you don’t come with -  _ this. Will. Fail.” _

“Don’t be so hard on yourself!” Kate said - and smiled  _ that _ smile. The one Brooke couldn’t have said no to if someone had put a gun to her head. “I’m sure you’ll do great. Just try your best, okay?”

“...Kate…” she said, trying  _ really _ hard to grapple back the iron-clad confidence that was now slipping away from her.

And Kate whipped out the puppy-dog eyes. “Please? I really can’t afford to miss this session.”

And, really, Brooke didn’t have a chance.

“...Fine.”

“Yes!” she cheered, leaning forward to pull Brooke into a quick, tight hug. Brooke’s mouth went dry. “ThankyousomuchI’llmakeituptoyoupinkypromiseokaybyenow!”

And, with that, Kate dashed off towards the library.

“...Bye,” Brooke muttered under her breath.

...Well. Apparently she was doing this alone.

So be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Things are starting to move along a little bit more quickly now.
> 
> Yes, I had Max's friends notice something's up *really* quickly. Well - four days in, anyway. And now Brooke's gonna talk to her about it. Which should be next chapter. 
> 
> I've got at least a little bit of a plan for these next two/three chapters. After that, the first week should be over, and this fic should start moving along quite a bit more quickly. After all - we've got a whole year to get through, and twenty-four chapters in we've only gotten through four days. At this rate, it'll take 2190 chapters and over 3.5 million words to get through this whole year.
> 
> Superstitious,
> 
> -Howard R.


End file.
